


aurora borealis

by karelyss



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Aerial Silk Dancer Yuzuru, Alternate Universe - Circus, Canon-Typical Violence, Detective Noir, Eventual Smut, Feline Tamer Evgenia, Fire Eater Nathan, Internalized Homophobia, Knife Thrower Javier ― Undercover, M/M, Murder Mystery, Period Typical Attitudes, Police Officer Javier, Ribbon Dancer Miki Ando, Slow Burn, Snake Charmer Shoma, i guess i will be adding to these as we meet others
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 31,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karelyss/pseuds/karelyss
Summary: “Last question, son,” Brian pointed a finger at him, “have you ever tried throwing knives?”Javier blinked. “Sorry, sir?”“Knives, or axes” the Chief repeated, mimicking the gesture. “Throwing ‘em. Ever tried?”Ontario, 1907. Officer Javier Fernandez gets assigned an undecover mission in a traveling circus. As the case keeps getting more and more obscure, it will be tempting for him to try and hold on to the flickering sparks of light that cross his path.





	1. the greatest show

**Author's Note:**

> hey guess who's not dead yet  
> WARNING: this is a fictional story about fictional characters. any ressemblances to actual real-life people is purely coincidencial

I. THE GREATEST SHOW

 

As Javier walked across the camp, he tried his very best not to get hit in the face by a flying object or to get his hair burnt by the random burst of flames some guys would casually blow up in the air.

Nobody really paid attention to him. They were all caught up in the frenzy of the preparation for the spectacle that night, Javier assumed. It was better that way. He could look at each one of the peculiar individual that crossed his path without appearing like he was scrutinizing them.

Getting distracted was too easy. He raised his chin above the crowd not to lose sight of the small boy that guided him to his tent.

All together, the different sized colorful marquees almost formed a sort of little village, with its busy alleys and unexpected turns, five hundred meters or so away from the Big Top. Even furtherer than that, apart from everyone else, appeared in front of Javier’s eyes a rather unstable looking tent, small and reddish in color, and the boy stopped in front of it.

Javier looked at him, hesitant.

“Is that the one?” he asked.

The boy looked at him, face blank, as he opened the fabric door. Javier entered, lowering his head, passing by as far a possible as he could from the boy’s arm.

Shoma, Lambiel had called him. As tiny as he was, he really didn’t seem threatening on his own. What Javier would however have liked to avoid was the huge snake that rested on his shoulders like some kind of scarf, and the little ones that rolled up his arm and hissed as Javier passed next to it. He did not dare imagine the quantity of other snakes the boy hid underneath his clothes, but the many hisses were sort of a tell-tale.

The interior was basic-looking, with a folding bed, a little table and an oil-lamp that dimly lit up the space. Javier looked down at the gravel at his feet. He then raised his eyes at Shoma. The boy was staring at him, with that same blank expression he wore since Javier had met him, a few moments ago.

“So, I just―,” Javier looked around for a spot to put down his bags, “It’s here I live?”

The boy blinked at him.

Javier sighed, short and subtle. “Okay,” he muttered, and dropped his bags on the gravel.

He looked around a little and scratched the back of his neck. The snakes underneath Shoma’s shirt hissed.

“Uh,” Javier said. “Thanks, I guess. For showing me around.”

Shoma kept looking at him with those emotionless eyes. Javier, shifted on his feet, feeling a little uncomfortable. He knew the boy could hear, as he obeyed Lambiel’s demand to bring Javier to his tent. But could he talk?

Javier made a vague hand movement. “See ya’ around,” he smiled awkwardly. “At eight, right? For the show?”

Without further ceremony, Shoma dropped down the fabric, and Javier heard his feet in the gravel walking away from the door.

He heaved a sigh in relief. The bed creaked when he sat on it, and he pressed the palm of his hands against his eyes. He breathed, in, and out.

 _Go and rest now_ , Lambiel had said with a smile. _Better be prepared for a long night_.

It was too late to back off now. He had entered the circus, and that was already an achievement on its own.

But the job was far, far from being done.

 

When Chief Orser had convoked him to his office through a telegram, Javier knew something was up. He wasn’t exactly a rookie, and had met the chief of the police numerous times before, but you didn’t get convoked at the central headquarters every week.

Not only was Mr. Orser there, smoking big puffs of his cigar behind his large desk, but Javier noticed also none other than Tracy Wilson, representative of the national security department, in the corner of the room. He quickly took his hat off to salute her. She smiled at him, benevolent, as he walked in Mr. Orser’s direction to shake his hand.

“Please sit down, Fernandez,” Brian made a hand gesture to the big black chair in front of his. “Have a cigar.”

Javier rather took a cigarette.

“You must wonder what the hell you’re doing here, right?”

Javier glanced quickly at Mrs. Wilson. “Right, sir.”

He actually had spent all his time, in the tramway, trying to guess the reasons of his convocation since he first got the telegram at the downtown quarters, and had a few suppositions in mind. None would reveal itself to be right.

“Hope I ain’t did nothing wrong,” he added, smirk light on his lips. He knew he hadn’t, and the Chief knew it too.

“Of course not, Fernandez,” Mr. Orser scoffed. “Reports on your case have been nothing but positive.”

“Glad to hear so, sir.”

Tracy took a step towards them. She exhaled a puff of her smoke, looking straight at Javier. Her eyes were kind, but he could still feel them somehow piercing through his core.

“I’ve heard of your ability,” she said. “A lot.”

Javier blinked at her. “My what?”

“You know which one,” she tilted her head. “Quite a gift.”

Javier looked down. “It’s not that great, Ma’am,” he shrugged. “Just helps the job get done.”

She smiled at him. Mr. Orser coughed.

“He’s being humble,” he said.

“I’m really not, sir,” Javier shook his head. “It’s not like I try and do it as much as possible.” He looked down. “I don’t like shooting at people. I’m just like anyone else. Sir.”

Tracy laughed, a clear sound that startled Javier.

“Well,” she then said, taking a puff of her cigarette, “Fernandez, I announce you that today we need someone with abilities like yours. Not anyone else.”

“We need you,” Mr. Orser said, serious. “For something quite risqué. You can say no―”

“But we’d rather you accept,” interrupted Tracy.

Brian glared at her. “Let’s get him to hear about it first.”

“Anything,” Javier said, without a second thought, and that stopped them. “Sir, Ma’am.” He looked at them both. “I don’t fear risks.”

Mr. Orser and Tracy exchanged another look. Javier’s heart was beating lightly in his chest, full of the expectations a special mission came with. The salary raise, among others. He could use any money he would get.

Tracy put out her cigarette.

“Let’s not beat around the bush, then, Javier,” she said. “We’ve made research. You’ve been an investigator at the criminal department of this town for four years now. You’ve had your fair share of cases. You’re still quite young, but you live alone, with no family members registered at any address of the city.” She crossed her arms. “And you can shoot a gun better than anyone’s ever met. Is that right?”

Javier tried to hold her gaze, tried not to show his fist clenching on his tight. “All true, Ma’am.”

Tracy nodded. “You’ve had to be undercover before. For the Newark case, it that correct?”

“It is, Ma’am.”

“Reports say you’ve did great. Recommended you for other similar missions. You’re good at keeping a cover, son?”

“So I’ve been told, Ma’am.”

“For how long?”

Javier squeezed his lips as he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, Ma’am. Longest was the Newark case. It was for two whole weeks.”

Tracy looked at Brian. The Chief scratched his throat before gazing back at Javier.

“Last question, son,” he pointed a finger at him, “have you ever tried throwing knives?”

Javier blinked. “Sorry, sir?”

“Knives, or axes” Mr. Orser repeated, mimicking the gesture. “Throwing ‘em. Ever tried?”

Javier frowned, confused. His glance switched from Tracy to the Chief, silently asking if this was a real question. Both of them looked deadly serious.

“Don’t think so, sir,” he mumbled, a little worried.

Tracy took a breath, and brought a hand to her chin, looking pensive.

“How about darts?” she asked, after a moment of silence.

“Uh,” Javier scratched his neck. “Well, anything I can throw, Ma’am. I’ve never missed a shot.”

She smiled, looking incredibly pleased. “So I’ve heard. It’s the same that with guns?”

Javier shrugged. If she knew about it, he wasn’t sure why kept asking. “I just know how to aim, Ma’am.”

She stared at him for a moment, ghost of a smile still on her lips. She then put her hand on her hips and nodded to Mr. Orser.

“It’ll do perfectly,” she simply stated, and Brian sighed.

“Fernandez,” he said as he took out some folders and handed them to Javier. “Here’s our case.”

Javier took a moment to read the highlights of the documents.

“A murder in Manitoba, sir?” he mumbled, trying to make sense of the pictures.

Mr. Orser rubbed his face. “Can’t say for sure it’s a murder. Just found a dead body in the dumps of Selkirk―”

“― with a throat sliced,” continued Javier, a murmur, frowning at the black and white photography of the autopsy.

 “Doesn’t look like an accident to us,” said Tracy. She pointed at a picture. “Look at the depth of the wound. The weapon must have been very large, a sword of some sort.”

“Strange.” Javier looked up. “What’s the link with us, though? It happened in another province.”

Brian crossed his arms. “Here’s the thing― that’s why Mrs. Wilson’s here today. The victim’s a no one. No papers, no info― apart from one thing.”

Tracy pointed at a line on the sheet Javier was holding. “We interrogated rags from the neighborhood. Two persons recognized him, and they were doubtless: they’d never seen him before the night of the show of a circus that came in town that week.”

“A stranger in Selkirk,” smirked Javier. “That’s quite something.”

“You then understand what that mean, Fernandez?” Brian asked him.

Javier crunched up his nose.

“He came with the circus,” he stated. “And the circus left without him.”

“Precisely. Now, the trick is that this fucking circus, you see― it’s a traveling one. It appears one night in a random place without any warning, and leaves basically right after. Never stays more than three days settled.”

“And stays away from big cities, and big roads,” said Tracy. “It goes and goes, and we never know where. We can’t arrest the whole gang, not with the little evidence we have.”

“So it became a national affair― we’ve had reports saying they were now in Ontario. They’re headed to the East, that’s for sure.”

Javier closed the folder he was still holding.

“So what, now?”

“Now,” said Tracy, “we have a contact. In the suburbs of Toronto, precisely, a friend of a friend, who knows a guy that guaranteed he knew one guy from the circus.”

Javier raised his eyebrows.

Tracy raised a hand. “I know it’s not much, but it’s all we have.”

“The deal is an arranged meeting at a bar,” Brian explained. “Not next Tuesday, but the other. The barman is on it. The guy from the circus will be there― and so will you. And you will be throwing knives.”

Javier blinked, twice. “What?”

“That’s a skill,” said Tracy. “A _circus_ skill, Fernandez.”

“That’s why we need _you_ , and no one else.”

“Wait,” said Javier. He tried to make sense of all the information that was given so suddenly to him. “You want me to be throwing knives, casually, at a bar on a Tuesday night― all in hope that I will get noticed by this one guy from the circus― and then what? It makes no sense. It won’t work.”

“We’ve gotta try,” Mr. Orser rubbed his face again. “It’s our best shot.”

Javier looked at them in silence for a moment.

“Hypothetically,” he said, “even if it worked― what would I even do after that?”

“You infiltrate the band of freaks,” smiled Tracy, “and you find the culprit.”

“They’re missing a member, now, anyway,” scoffed the Chief. “And any fine circus could use a good knife thrower.”

Javier shook his head, looking down at the folders in his hands. He contemplated the offer for a moment.

“This all sound like a guaranteed failure,” he said quietly.

He could feel Tracy smile at his side.

“So, it’s a yes?”

 

Javier ended up going to the bar, that Tuesday. Spent all night throwing darts at the wall like some kind of idiot, waiting for something to happen, for someone to come and talk to him. He was about to give up and just go home when he felt a tap on his shoulders.

“Heard you’d pay a round of drinks if anyone could beat you at that game.”

Javier smirked and looked at the man. He was taller than him by a good head, slender, too, and was smiling back.

“That’s right,” Javier said, unflinching. He followed the plan Brian told him. “But anyone who loses has to get me a pint.”

“Let’s try,” the man said.

He grabbed a dart, took a second to aim, and threw it a centimeter or so next to the mark at the center of the board.

“Not bad,” said Javier.

“Your turn,” smiled the man.

Javier took a dart. He positioned his hand, and glanced back straight in the man’s eyes as he threw it. He didn’t even have to look at the board to know he got it perfectly.

“Your treat,” he said simply, and the man’s smile grew wider.

“I’ll get you more than that,” he said, taking out something from his coat, “if you can throw this for me.”

Javier glanced down at what the man offered him in his gloved hand. A small penknife, looking expensive. Javier took it.

“Whatever,” he said, and positioned his hand.

The man stopped him.

“Not here,” he said. “A little furtherer away, please.” Another smile.

Javier raised an eyebrow.

“How far?”

“How far can you go?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Javier scoffed. He stepped back as few meters, as far as the space could allow. “Don’t stay in the way,” he added.

As soon as the man stepped away a little, Javier threw the pocket knife. It landed straight in the middle, slicing the dart that was already there in two perfectly symmetrical halves. Javier smirked.

The man clapped slowly. The sound was muffled by his gloves, and the noise of the bar.

“Amazing,” said the man, and he held out his hand to Javier. “Mister?”

Javier shook it. “Raya. Sir?”

“Lambiel,” the other squeezed his hand, once, and then let go. “Stéphane Lambiel. Such a delight to meet you tonight.”

 

Javier Raya was a detailed and carefully crafted illusion. One that Javier worked on every day ever since he first heard of him, and of what he needed to be for an undetermined period of time. Javier Raya had no attach. He lived here and there, worked here and there, and had nothing to lose. He threw darts for fun, but would gladly do it for money if the opportunity presented itself.

Javier Raya had never touched a gun.

 

It was only when Javier woke up that he realized he fell asleep. Cursing under his breath, he rubbed his face and scrambled out of his tent. The night had fallen already. The camp seemed deserted, but Javier could still strangely hear the sound of gravel being crunched up occasionally, so he knew some people were still walking in the shadows. He strode fast across the tents, towards the Big Top. It was already all lit up. Javier could hear the noise from there, all the people talking, enthusiastic cries from kids, music, and stranger, beastly sounds, that Javier didn’t dare take a guess at.

There was quite a crowd, and it surprised him.

From what he guessed when riding in the carriage with Lambiel, he was around the North-East of Toronto’s countryside. Close to Etobicoke, probably. Poor-ass mining town, Javier thought as he looked at the people’s gray faces and worn out clothes. Circus was probably quite an event for them.

He was glad to see the show hadn’t started yet, but the stands were almost full, so he had to climb a few stairs to sit at the back.

Both Javiers had never seen a circus show before. His mom had always strictly kept Laura and him away from all these sort of parades, fairs, and shows strangers organized.

He looked down at the wooden sign on top of the scene.

~ORIENTAL DELIGHTS, TRICKS AND CURIOSITIES~

THE DOZENS WONDERS OF THE WORLD

WELCOME

Y O U

TONIGHT

The seat was uncomfortable. A mother held a baby in her arms on his right, and two kids were sitting to his left.

“Heard we’d see some panties when the ladies do acrobatics,” one of the boys said to the other, adjusting his too big hat.

“That’s bunk,” his friend laughed. “Heard ladies will have beards. I’d rather not see _their_ panties.”

Javier smiled. But, as the lights went out, he felt his chest constrict.

Silence fell in the audience.

A man, dressed in the strangest clothes Javier ever saw someone wear, now stood alone in the middle of the round scene. A single projector lit him up in the dark. His top hat was hiding his eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for.”

Javier rested his chin on his hands.

The man extended his arm holding a cane. With a drumbeat, the lights shifted rapidly, and Javier felt the kid next to him jump a little on his seat.

“The Wonders of the World are delighted to have you as an audience tonight.”

Another drumbeat and play of light. Javier didn’t flinch.

“You may be tempted to gasp, you may be tempted to laugh, you maybe tempted to cry. But remember,” the man lifted his hat up a little, and looked at the audience with piercing blue eyes filled with mischief. “Nothing you’ll see tonight is real.”

He crossed his legs, extended an arm, and bowed.

When he got up, he threw his hat up in the air, and as heads raised to follow the movement, lights became blinding. Music started, flames appeared to the sides, and three men salto-ed their way to the center of the stage.

A thunder of applause and delighted gasps filled the public.

Javier already felt dizzy.

He saw the whole thing, and the feeling never went away.

He saw bodies twisting in ways he never thought possible, men taming fire and eating knifes, small girls playing with wild beasts, people defying every law of physic he could think of. He saw the tallest man on earth, a woman as white as the snow, a man-child riding an elephant, oriental dancers moving ribbons in hypnotic harmony, magic tricks.

He saw it all, but nothing did, indeed, feel real. Javier wondered if he was in a dream, or in a nightmare.

The thunder of applause filled his ears and he realised he was the only one still seated. He stood up, for good measure.

“I can’t believe it,” the kid next to him exclaimed, jumping in joy. “I can’t believe it!”

As he clapped slowly, coming back to his senses, Javier looked at the indistinct faces down below.

They formed a circle, holding hands, smiling bright at the audience, and as they bowed down the applauses got louder.

 _Bunch of freaks_ , he had to remind himself. _Now, which one of you is a murderer?_

 

As the stands emptied themselves, Javier stayed. He got down the wooden stairs, stepped on the platform, and took a tentative look around. The floodlight mechanism had been impressive, and Javier wondered who took care of it all. Up in the air, the structure of beams and ropes looked like a distant maze.

“Javier!” Lambiel’s voice resonated to his side.

Javier jumped a little, surprised. The tall man came to him, smiling like before, still dressed in the same black coat and suit he wore during the day. Javier didn’t recall seeing him in the show. But then again, with the costumes and the quantity of make-up, it would be hard to recognize anyone on stage.

Next to him was the showman with blue eyes Javier saw numerous times during the performance. Seen up close, his eyes were even more piercing, underlined by a heavy black eyeliner. Javier couldn’t help but to stare at his hair, his clothes, and his general allure. He looked like a strange kind of butler, effeminate and outrageous, like coming out of different world.

“May I present you Johnny,” said Lambiel, hand on the showman’s shoulder. “Johnny, Javier.”

Javier shook the man’s hand, and then went back to twisting his hat in his hands. In all honesty, he was feeling the insecurity as much as he was playing it.

“He’s the one you’ll be referring to if there’s anything, when I’m not here,” Lambiel explained.

“So,” smiled Johnny, “most of the time.”

Lambiel gave him a look. “Yes, indeed.” He turned back to Javier, smile still on. “He’s in charge of the presentation. He coordinates the show, builds it up, and breaks it down when needed. He’ll help you with your number.”

“Okay,” just said Javier.

Johnny’s pale eyes scrutinized him with attention for a few a second. Javier gave him what was, he hoped, a convincing smile.

“What did you think of tonight?” Johnny asked him.

Javier scratched the back of his neck. He decided to go with honesty.

“It was overwhelming.”

It seemed to do, because Johnny’s smile grew even larger.

“Great,” he just said, and then clapped his hands. “We were missing quite a few nice elements, but I agree, it was amazing. Let’s show you around a bit, shall we? Introduce you to the troupe.”

He grasped Javier’s by the shoulders, and Javier barely had the time to wave a hand at Lambiel before he was dragged in behind the curtains.

If he had thought the show was overwhelming, he couldn’t even describe what the backstage was.

Such a concentrated quantity of circus members in the same space was nothing like Javier ever saw. People were cleaning up, and wigs, rustling dresses, feathers and sparkles were running around freely, talking to each other, laughing, almost alien, strangely careless. Even the damn elephant looked like it belonged.

Johnny was naming everyone they passed by to him.

“That’s Boyang, and Sui, and Han, some of the contortionists you saw. We’re missing two couples, because of injuries. That’s Alina, and Shoma― you’ve met, right?― and here’s Nathan _, careful_ with the fire, please! And Evgenia, there. With the big cats, you remember? Sweet girl, she’ll help you with your tent. And here’s Carolina, hi sweetie, you did great! And there’s―”

He stopped to look at Javier, suddenly looking guilty.

“That’s kind of a messy intro, don’t you think?” he said, smiling, bringing a hand to his forehead. “Silly me.”

Javier didn’t have time to object― Johnny’s hands were already circling his mouth, shouting in them like a microphone.

“Everyone, stop what you’re doing and come here, right now!”

And Javier wouldn’t have expected that to work as well as it did. In the span of a few chaotic seconds, the whole troupe was settled in front of them.

Having this much color, glitter and grandiloquent make-up covered faces looking at him directly was a bit dizzying, but Javier worked up to keep his composure. He tried to recognize a few faces in the small crowd, but in between the wigs, masks and heavy costumes, every visage mingled with the others, and Javier couldn’t even spot Shoma’s.

“Stéphane told you of Javier already, didn’t he?” Johnny asked the troupe.

A few mumbles got heard, unconvincing, and a few faces turned away to look at each other, but most kept their heavy gaze straight on him.

Johnny rolled his eyes theatrically. “He did, I was there. You all have a goldfish memory, that’s what I say.”

A voice raised itself from the crowd, tentative. “Is he the guy who’s supposed to take care of Betty’s trunk?”

A few laughs. Johnny shook his head. “No, stupid.”

“Then when’s that guy coming? It’s getting pretty late and I’m sure it should be checked―”

“We’ll talk about Betty later, okay?” Johnny interrupted with a dramatic movement of the hand.

It felt so odd to Javier, seeing all these freaks and monster-like beings standing there, joking around, looking oddly relaxed. Almost normal.

Johnny’s hand clapped his back vigorously.

“For now, everyone, I present to you our newest addition to the troupe, Javier.” He turned to him. “You’re now a part of the Wonders of the Worlds,” he winked at him. “From all of us, sincerely, welcome.”

The troupe saluted him, disorganized and uncoordinated, but warm overall. Johnny’s hand over his back squeezed a little.

“Tell them what’s your trick, now, Javier.”

Javier felt the weight of all the unrestrained attention on him, and stumbled a little over his words.

“My what?”

“Your trick,” Johnny smiled, insisting. He extended his arms to do jazzy hands. “Your act, your twist. Your number.”

“Uh, I―” Javier felt ridiculous. He smiled, awkward, at the crowd. “I can, uh, throw knives. Sort of.”

A few beats of silence followed his clumsy presentation. Johnny clicked his tongue. “We’ll have to work on that presentation.” He patted his back, and Javier felt even more awkward, if it was possible. “Javier’s the _best_ aimer of the entire _continent_ , ladies and gentlemen,” he said with his grandiose showman voice.

Javier really doubted that. He must have shown he did, because a few snickers erupted from the crowd.

“No laughing,” scolded Johnny.

A weird smile sprayed on his face, and the mischief in his eyes came back. Javier’s own smile faded unconsciously.

“Because,” the showman added, “you know that our Javier will need help for his number.”

Javier frowned.

“So, volunteers?”

Silence fell again, heavy. When Javier realised Johnny wasn’t joking, he intervened.

“Uh, really, there’s no need to―”

“There is,” Johnny interrupted him with a sly smile. “Teamwork makes the dream works, doesn’t it? And, what’s the point of shooting knives if it isn’t at people?”

Javier’s stomach twisted. This wasn’t part of the deal. As Johnny’s piercing eyes looked around the group, glances were firmly kept on the ground. Nobody wanted to draw attention to themselves.

Johnny insisted. “I need a volunteer. Our knife-thrower never missed a shot, didn’t he? What’s there to be afraid of?”

The silence eternised itself for a little longer, before some guy’s voice broke it.

“Weir,” he said as he took a step forward. “Have you ever even _seen_ him shoot?”

That was a pertinent intervention, if you asked Javier. He took a closer look at the guy. He was smaller than Javier, but stood firm and solid on his feet. By his costume, Javier recalled him as one of the ring acrobats.

“We’ve never even heard of this guy― no offense,” he said to Javier, who shrugged. “But being thrown knives at just like that is a bit too much to ask―”

Johnny raised a hand. “Denis.” His eyes were hard, and his tone left no room for any protestation. “Do you realise what kind of people you make us look like right now?”

Denis’ gaze lowered, something shifting in his face. Javier felt terrible. He didn’t want to attract any attention to him right now, much less hostility, but Johnny didn’t help.

“Really,” he felt the urge to intervene again, “there’s no need for any of this. I can do something else, I―”

‘You will not,” said Johnny coldly, not even bothering to look at him. Javier’s mouth shut instantly.

The showman took a step forward the group.

“I haven’t seen him throw a single knife, true. But Stéphane told me to thrust him, and that’s all I need.” He planted his gaze in everyone’s eyes, accusing. “That’s all I ever needed to welcome any of you in this troupe. You all seem to forget about it, but not so long ago, you were all in his shoes. And I welcomed you. And I sheltered you. And I gave you partners, and I formed teams. I gave you my thrust.”

He raised his chin.

“All I ever asked of you was to reciprocate. Now,” he planted his cane on the ground, “may I repeat: who’s volunteer?”

The silence this time was substantial, but didn’t last long.

A small figure stepped out of the crowd.

“I’ll do it.”

All heads turned to her, and even Johnny seemed taken aback.

“Me,” the women repeated. “It’s okay. I’ll do it.”

She didn’t meet Javier’s gaze. But still, she looked determined.

She had a little accent, and just seeing her features, Javier could guess she was coming from far-away. Her black hair was tied in a knot, and she had feathers in it. Javier didn’t recall seeing her in the show, but she was dressed as one of the ribbon dancers. She had no make-up on her face.

Johnny took a moment to look at her.

“Someone else?” he just said, smiling back at the crowd, like the lady hadn’t spoken at all.

Javier was confused.

“I’m serious, Johnny,” the woman protested, louder. “I will be his partner.”

“Please stop, Miki,” said Johnny, clicking his tongue. “You know I’m not asking that of you―”

“It’s okay, Miki. I’ll do it,” said another ribbon girl, stepping next to Miki, hand on her arm.

“No,” said someone else. “I’ll do it. I don’t mind, really.”

Miki took out her arm from her friend’s protective embrace.

“You all are ridiculous,” she said, rolling her eyes, and Javier already found a liking in the foreign sound of her voice. “I will do it. Johnny,” she planted her gaze in his, serious. “I want to. Let me.”

For the first time that night, Javier saw Johnny look unsure.

He hesitated. “I really don’t think―”

“Please.”

Johnny sighed.

Javier had no idea what all of this drama was about, but he let no detail slip his attention.

“Fine.” Johnny turned to him. “Miki got pretty sick not long ago, excuse this.” He looked back at her. “If you feel like you can, let’s give it a try. A _try_ , I say. Okay?”

Miki smiled. For the first time, she looked at Javier in the eyes, and she nodded.

Javier nodded back.

“Amazing,” Johnny interrupted the moment. “Everyone, thanks for your attention, you can now go back to whatever shit you were doing before. See you tomorrow morning!”

The crowd started to disperse slowly, and animation to take back its natural course.

“Miki, come and talk to me after, please,” said Johnny as he saw her go away. She nodded, and he added: “How about you bring back Javier to his tent before? Poor fella’ looks tired.”

“Sure,” said Miki.

Javier followed her out of the big top. Unlike with Shoma, though, she waited for him and adjusted her pace to his, still smiling.

Javier felt the need to say something, to justify himself.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I really didn’t know, and if I did, I would have asked Johnny―”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head.

“If you’re sick―”

“No, no,” she insisted. “I’m fine.”

Javier bit his lip.

“We’ll try this and see how it goes, right?” she said.

Her eyes were soft, and her tone was light. Javier smiled.

They walked in silence for a bit more.

“You’re quite brave for agreeing to all of this,” he said after a while. “I wouldn’t have.”

She laughed, bright and sweet. “I’m more solid than I look like,” she said. And then, after a smirk: “And frankly, you don’t look like that much of a menace.”

 

Javier twisted and turned in his bed for what seemed to be hours, mind full of all the details his brain took note of, without yet knowing which ones to keep and which ones to throw away. He wanted to write it all down but wasn’t familiar enough with the small space he had to know where to hide compromising papers like that.

His shoulders were already hurting from the hard surface of the folding bed, and Javier found himself already regretting his shitty flat back in downtown Toronto. The noise the trains made there was just as bad as the footsteps, the laughs, and the voices he could hear from his tent, but at least, back in his apartment, he knew he had nothing to fear from trains. He also had a thought for Effie, the street cat that came once in while to Javier to ask for food. He had left a word to the lady that was his neighbor about it, hoping she wouldn’t let the cat starve, despite her fiscal situation.

The crisis was harsh for everyone.

His last thoughts, before falling asleep, went to Laura and the kid, as always.

 

In the morning, his eyelids sprung open to bright blinding light, and he held his forearm against his face to cover up the shock to his sleepy, sensitive eyes.

“What―” was the first word he mumbled, confused and groggy. He then saw a figure holding up the door, facing him, and he changed his question. “Who’s―”

“You’re not even awake yet!” the person exclaimed, cutting short his interrogations. “You’re going to miss it all!”

Javier sat on him bed, rubbing his face. “Miss what?”

“Miss what?” the voice repeated. “Miss everything! Come on, up! I’ll wait for you outside.”

The fabric of the door shut close once again, as Javier scrambled off his bed and put a shirt on, still not quite awake, but a little alarmed at the urgency of the tone of the girl who woke him.

When he got outside, the camp was transformed.

Basically every tent was gone, horses and carriages were everywhere, and the big top was nothing but a flat puddle of color in the distance. Alone stood his little shelter, un-dismounted, late and ridiculous.

“When did that―”

“There you are,” exclaimed the girl who, apparently, had a bad habit of cutting people off. “How could you have slept through all of this?”

She was tiny and cute, with long brown hair that gave her a bit of a wild allure. She had a surprisingly low voice for someone so small, and her accent was foreign too.

“Who are you?” Javier answered her question by another question.

“Evgenia,” she said. “We met yesterday. I’m here to help you dismantle your tent.”

“Oh,” said Javier, vaguely remembering Johnny saying something about it the night before. “Thanks.”

“Take out your stuff,” she ordered with a movement of the chin.

As Javier did so promptly, she only looked at him with her big, brown eyes, and an ever-present worrying smile.

“So,” Javier dropped the last item that was inside of his tent outside of it. “Now, how do we―”

Evgenia was already taking down the big tent by herself, snapping poles in two, folding the fabric in half with big arms movements, and in the span of a snap of a finger, the whole thing was folded neatly on the ground, just a compact and light-weighed package.

“See?” Evgenia smiled. “That’s how you do it.”

“Uh,” said Javier. He barely had time to see the whole thing happening, even less so to process it. “Okay, thanks.”

She gave him an unexpectedly strong pat on the back that almost made him stumble forward. She then made a movement to go away, but Javier stopped her before she could.

“What do I do, now, with this?” he asked, a little worried. “I don’t have a― _horse_ , or anything.”

She giggled. “You can ride with me,” she shrugged, and made a little hand movement. “Just grab your stuff and come.”

Javier thanked her, and tried his best to bring all the stuff he had in one go without looking like he was struggling. Evgenia was fast-paced, and athletic, apparently. He hid his short breath as much as he could.

 

When he arrived to Evgenia’s carriage, Javier remembered instantly who Evgenia was exactly, and why it was a bad idea to accept the offer to ride with her.

“Don’t mind the cats,” she said. “They like horse rides.”

Javier looked hesitantly at the small spot Evgenia designated for him to sit next to her, impossibly close the cages of the lions she tamed during her number the night before. His gaze then shifted back to Evgenia, who was gazing lovingly at a panther a few meters away, shushing it to stop it from trying to rip away the bars of its cage.

He dropped his bags with precaution next to it.

Evgenia went back to the front of the carriage and installed herself to its reins. Javier sat down beside her.

“Kai’s the youngest,” she explained enthusiastically, “he’s still a bit nervous about moving around so much. The others just sleep most of the way.”

“Nice,” said Javier, because he didn’t know what else to say.

Hissing sounds could be heard close to them.

“Oh, hi Shoma!” Evgenia’s attention finally shifted away from her beasts. “Are we all set?”

The boy, who was passing by their carriage, nodded. He still had the same blank expression plastered on his face, and snakes all over his arms and shoulders, even more, it appeared, than the day before.

“Perfect!” Evgenia said. “We’ll follow Scott. Need a ride?”

Javier felt a short shiver run down his spine. The idea of spending more time than strictly necessary in the boy’s presence wasn’t tempting.

Fortunately, Shoma shook his head and pointed his chin in another’s carriage direction.

“Okay,” said Evgenia, whipping already the horses. “See you there!”

As they were getting furtherer away, quick-paced, Javier exhaled.

Evgenia looked at him. “What?”                       

Javier frowned. “What, what?”

“You seemed tense.” She looked back on the road. “Don’t like Shoma? He’s the sweetest.”

Javier shrugged, trying to down-play it a little.

“Snakes creep me out.”

Evgenia just laughed. Then, after a second, she declared: “You’ve got nothing to fear from animals.”

They followed closely a range of other carriages down a route between the fields. When Javier looked back, he saw there was a few others behind them.

“How many people is there in the troupe?” he asked.

Evgenia frowned. “Hum, about thirty, I’d say?” She thought in silence for a moment. “A little more than that, if you count the technical staff.”

“Wow,” said Javier, brows high. “That’s a lot.”

She giggled again. “And about fifty,” she then said, “if you count my cats.”

Javier chuckled awkwardly. It was hard to guess the girl’s age, as her eyes, with heavy eyelids, made her appear much older than her laughter did. Javier chose not to ask, in fear of looking too curious. He kept the discussion to practical matters.

“And do you know where we’re heading?”

Evgenia kept her eyes on the road. She just shrugged.

Javier waited a few seconds. “You don’t?”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“I think it does,” said Javier, a little alarmed now.

“Why would it?”

“You really have no idea where we’re going?”

He had to send a word to Brian to tell him where they moved each time they did. They agreed it wasn’t safe enough otherwise. It wasn’t that Javier was scared, but in case of an emergency, he’d rather have at least one human on earth knowing where the fuck he was.

“Nope. But you know,” said light-heartedly Evgenia, “once you get used to it, every crowd’s pretty much the same.”

“Is that so,” said Javier, still deep in his thoughts about how he would ask someone else to give him the geographic coordinates once they settled down without looking suspicious.

The deafening roar of the lion behind him took him out of thoughts, and almost made him jump off his seat.

Evgenia burst out laughing like a little girl, apparently finding Javier’s fright of a lifetime highly amusing. Javier only glared at her, heart still beating fast and loud in his ears.  

“Ah, don’t worry, Javier” she pouted, eyes still filled with laughter. “Chanyeol’s just a little shy with strangers. Give him a treat and he’ll like you.”

She took out from her side a plastic bag and put it between Javier and her.

Reluctantly, still scowling at the lion, Javier put his hand in the bag. He touched flabby pieces of an unknown texture, wet and lukewarm. Confused, he took out his hand and his eyes got wide; it was covered in blood.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, peering inside the bag with his other hand. It was full of meat, chopped in palm-sized pieces. Flies came out, and Javier waved them away, making a face.

“Treats,” answered simply Evgenia.

Vaguely disgusted, and unwilling to ask himself more question about the provenance of the meat, Javier put back his dirty hand in the bag. He took a piece and threw it awkwardly at the beast. It caught the meat in the blink of an eye, immense jaw clapping in air.  

“It loves it,” said Javier, surprised and strangely pleased.

Evgenia glared at him. “ _He_ loves it.”

Javier blinked. “Right. He.”

He wiped his hand on the fabric of the bench.

The rest of the trip went smoothly, with Evgenia’s voice rambling about her beasts as a background noise. She wouldn’t talk about anything else, and Javier, who was trying to befriend her, tried his best to appear interested, but he was glad when they finally arrived. He got away from the huge deadly cats and their over-loving mistress without regret.

 

The first thing he did when he set foot off the carriage was to try and find a piece of paper. He got lucky and befriended easily the guy from the carriage right in front of theirs, who got him a bunch of sheets of papers, an ink pen, and even got who Javier assumed was his wife to tell him were they were exactly.

“Tessa’s the only one around who’s got her shit together,” the guy smiled as he took down some luggage compartments off his carriage.

“I am,” laughed the woman, and Javier couldn’t help but smile a little. “Don’t hesitate to come and ask me if you ever need something.”

He thanked them, put the paper in his bag, and walked off. His next mission was to try and find Miki, in hope to have a familiar face to guide him that wasn’t Shoma or Evgenia. He didn’t have to walk long across the settling camp before finding her: she appeared in front of his eyes as on cue, and Javier regretted a bit not having more time to wander and look around.

“Hey,” she said. “I was looking for you.”

Javier smiled. “Me too. I―”

“I don’t have much time now,” she raised a hand to touch faintly his arm, “I need to help with the big top, but how about we meet later, when it’s all set?”

“Oh,” said Javier. “Uh, sure, when?”

“Johnny scheduled us second for practice,” she explained. “So basically, once the tent is set. In an hour?”

“Okay,” said Javier. “But, I don’t really know what to do now with―”

“Evgenia’s right there,” Miki pointed behind Javier. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to help you settle down.”

Javier turned around to see Evgenia caressing gently the big python Shoma had around his shoulders. When she noticed Javier looking at her, she waved a hand enthusiastically. Shoma looked at him too, expressionless, as always. Javier sighed.

“Right.”

“I’ll see you later,” said Miki, as she smiled gently at him. She basically vanished away before Javier had the chance to say anything else.

Javier rubbed a hand against his face, put on a smile, and walked back to Evgenia.

 

Javier ended up being an useless witness more than actively participating to the setting of the camp, but that gave him the opportunity, since everyone was so busy, to write quickly his letter to Brian. He gave it to one of the street kids that ran across the camp, curious by such a grand arrival near their hometown. The letter to the post office in exchange for two quarters, and the kid ran off, happy with his share of the deal.

The hour passed quickly. In the blink of an eye, the main big tent was settled, and Javier was quite amazed by the efficacity of it all. He ate with a part of the troupe, including Scott and Tessa he had met earlier, a quick and rather unsatisfying meal, but he didn’t dare making any comment.

It was that bad. It even kind of remembered him of what he and Laura would eat when they stayed at their grandma’s house as kids, because their parents were coming home from the factory too late.

The efficacity of all the settlement surprised even more considering what he got to see during meal time. They weren’t wearing costumes anymore, but even sparkleless and featherless, people were disorganized, laughing, shouting loudly at each other from one extremity of the table to the other, occasionally throwing food, and Javier even had to take his plate off the counter to avoid having Scott stepping on it, when the man decided walking around the table to get to the other side and sit next to Tessa was too much effort

He kept asking if the big top was all settled, and when he finally got “yes” as an answer, he hurried to finish his food and walk there to meet Miki as planned.

 

He wasn’t sure from where to enter the big top, and there was no one around to ask. He recalled that the previous night, he had entered and exited by the main entrance, but the tent was so huge that Javier, where he stood, couldn’t even see that entrance.

There was always the option to go around the marquee and hope to find a way to enter at some point, but Javier rather preferred short-cuts. Glancing left and right to make sure no one was about to witness his little infraction, he grabbed with both hands the bottom of the fabric and raised it high enough to pass underneath. It was heavier than he thought, but with a small _oof_ , he managed to get inside.

It was rather dark inside, and Javier almost hit his head on a wooden beam. He realised he was in-between the cloth material of the tent and some of the stances.

Careful not to tangle his feet on the ropes and wires that laid on the ground, he proceeded to try and find a path to go to the stage.

The obscurity and silence gave a solemn allure to the interior, in sharp contrast to all the turmoil and craziness Javier witnessed the past night in that same place. As he walked, though, muffled voices reached his ears.

Careful, Javier listened.

It was definitely voices. Soft, lulling sounds, speaking low and tranquil in the immensity of the space. The words were incomprehensible to Javier.

He kept walking, vaguely wondering if he would ever find a breach to get through the wooden stances or would get stuck forever in this strange in-between. Rays of grey sunlight penetrated through hatches in the fabric ceiling, illuminating inconsistently the space and imposing an oppressing feeling to the atmosphere, similar to the one Javier recalled associating with the austerity of holy places.

Finally find a path through the stances, Javier got to see the two persons who were speaking.

Miki had her back facing Javier― he could recognize her easily by the soft fall of her locks on her shoulders, and the clothes he saw her wearing that morning. In front of her, however, stood a figure Javier wasn’t sure he ever saw before.

Hanging on effortlessly to one rope that fell from the top of the marquee, slowly turning on himself as he listened to Miki, ghost of a smile on his lips, there was a man, slender and strangely elegant despite his strange positioning.

A slant of light, coming from the roof, brushed lightly across his features. It made the whole scene appear kind of surreal.

Careless, Javier stumbled on a plank at his feet and almost fell on his face. Luckily, he got the reflex to grasp a beam to his right in time; beam that wasn’t the most solid, but still managed to keep them both on their feet. Not, unfortunately, without a dangerous wobbling sound that got both Miki and the man in front of her to snap their heads in his direction.

The man let go of the rope and landed lightly on the ground.

“Uh,” said Javier, trying to keep his cool, and not to appear like he was peering at all, “hi.”

He gave an apologetic smile to Miki. She looked surprised at his sudden appearance, but not suspiciously so.

He barely had the time to make eye-contact with the man who held the rope. There was no trace of any smile left on his face, and the look he gave Javier was unreadable. He turned his head back to Miki, nodded lightly at her, and, within a second, was gone.

He just flew away.

Small particles of sand and dust floated in the air where he stood seconds ago, taking his place in the column of light, only trace that something had moved at all in the immensity and emptiness of the stage.

Javier looked up, eyes wide, to try to see where the man had disappeared. But the top of the marquee was too high, and where the rope had taken him, in the high and mazy structure of beams, lights and ropes, it was too dark for Javier to spot him.

“Where did he go?” was all Javier could articulate, looking back at Miki, a little bit shook. It still wasn’t the weirdest thing he had seen today, but he felt uneasy.

Miki just chuckled. She made a vague hand movement towards the sky, and stepped closer to him, handing out her hand to get him to come.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asked.

“I did,” said Javier, still glancing up. “I’m good. How did he do that?”

Miki only nodded. She was looking for something in a bag she had to her side.

“So, you don’t want to eat this?”

That got Javier to finally look down at her. She had an apple in her palm, a big, round, and deep red apple. It wasn’t even September yet. Javier’s eyebrows raised high.

Miki laughed, a clear sound that echoed slightly around him, and she threw him the apple. He caught it with two hands, as she took out another one of her bag and bit in it. She sat down on one of the wooden benches of the stands, and Javier sat next to her.

“I’d rather die than eat another one of Gertrude’s mashed mix of a plate,” she explained, spark in eyes a little playful. “What was it today?”

Javier smiled, swallowed his mouthful before scrunching up his nose.

“Not sure,” he admitted. “Potatoes, definitely. Corn. And… chopped steak, I believe?”

“Oh,” Miki smiled as she rolled her eyes. “Her famous pâté chinois.”

She took another bite before looking at him, annoyance in her eyes.

“You know they call it that because it was the kind of food they gave the Chinese workers who built up the railroads across the country?” She paused for emphasis. “Because it was the cheapest possible.”

“I didn’t know,” said Javier, and it was true. “You’re Chinese?”

Miki scoffed, and shook her head, mouth full. “No. Are you?”

Javier smirked, amused. He didn’t bother answering. Even if he wasn’t that hungry, he was grateful for the apple― it was sweet and crunchy, and the best thing Javier’s had to eat in at least a couple of weeks. Fruits were rare in Canada; they only were selling them during a few weeks in the summer, and then it was done. You had to survive on carrots, corn, turnip, and mashed potatoes.

“How did you get these?” he asked.

She gave him another of her cheeky smiles. “A girl knows her way around.”

Javier raised an eyebrow. “A girl is willing to share her ways?”

“She already shares her apples. One step at the time, Mister Javier.”

She had a funny way of pronouncing his name. Javier shrugged, defeated but amused, and tilted his head to take a good look at her.

Miki looked back straight at him. “What?” she said after a few seconds.

“What, what?”

“Why do you look at me like this?” She pointer her chin at him, a little defiant, but Javier could see she wasn’t serious, still playing.

He scoffed, and shook his head, looking down.

“I have something on my face?”

“No, no,” laughed Javier. It’s just―” He took a second to think. “It’s nice being around you. Everything here is so strange, everyone is weird and freaky, and you just― you are so genuine, and true. It feels nice.”

He had wanted to flatter her, but her face closed off suddenly instead of looking pleased. Javier knew instantly he messed up.

“You don’t know me.” Her voice was cold.

“I meant―” he tried to cover up, but she interrupted him.

“Be careful with your words, Javier,” she said, less harsh, looking him in the eye, like a true friend-advice. “Even what you call _freaks_ have feelings. And nothing is so black and white.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She took another piece of her apple, looking at the empty space in front of them.

“It’s fine.”

Javier didn’t push it, mentally wiping his forehead with a sigh. He couldn’t afford to lose Miki’s fragile acquaintance so soon.

“Would you mind showing me?” Miki said when she had finished her snack. “Just so that― so I can see it first, you know?”

She sounded embarrassed, but Javier understood.

“Of course,” he nodded.

He was still slightly amazed at her courage, accepting to have some stranger throw knives at her like that. As he watched her push in their direction an heavy box she said Johnny had left for them, after Javier saw his offer to help her carry it turned down, he couldn’t help but to feel truly a little admirative.

She was smiling. They both were.

 

They settled themselves up, organizing the space like it pleased them, safe and smart.

He drew a few rusty knives Johnny had furnished them, following Miki’s instructions. It was about building her confidence, after all, so Javier took this seriously, trying not to look too bored.

“It’s quite extraordinary,” finally said Miki.

Javier had thrown about half the content of the box onto a wooden wall. For the third time, he went and took off every single one of the knives. The holes in the wood kept the shape of a smiley face, symmetric and precise.

“It really is,” insisted Miki, and Javier forced a smile.

“Thanks.”

He hoped that was her cue to say she was feeling confident enough now to start practicing with _her_ on the wooden board, but not yet. Apparently, she still wanted to talk it out.

“Did you ever learn this?” she asked. “Or did it come naturally?”

Javier shrugged. He had this same exact conversation about a hundred times in his life.

“It was always like that.”

“You could’ve made a career out of this,” she insisted.

Javier smirked, cheeky. “It’s what I’m doing right now.”

Miki rolled her eyes, and Javier could see she wanted to laugh.

“How about we try again?” she said instead, fingers hovering over the wood.

Javier sighed a little, but kept his smile on. He grabbed other knives, once again, readied himself to pin them perfectly on the wall like she asked.

“Wait,” she stopped him.

Javier’s eyes followed her as she went back to her bag and took out an apple. She contemplated it for a second, as if it would help her gather courage, and tilted her head back at Javier.

“You shoot the apple,” she said, putting it balanced on the top her head. “And you try not to kill me.”

Javier took a good look at her. Her face was determined, eyes sharp, but Javier wouldn’t risk it yet.

 He mimicked throwing the knife at her. She flinched, making the apple wobble.

“You should close your eyes,” he said. “The knife won’t hit you, but if you flinch, it might. And it won’t be my fault.”

“I object,” she said. “It will entirely be your fault.”

“Just close your eyes,” he scoffed.

She did.

“Open them.”

She also did. Slowly, she put a hand above her head to touch the apple.

It was pinned to the wall, right above her. Some of the juice had spilled a little over her hair. She looked back at him, eyes wide.

Javier took another knife and flipped it in his hand, smiling.

“Ready for another try?”

 

During dinner, as Javier was chatting with Miki and her friends from the Ribbon Dance number, Johnny came to back-hug them both without warning.

“How did practice go?” He squeezed gently Miki’s cheek with his right hand. “No scratches on the loveliest of my birdies?”

Miki laughed, tossing his hand away. “All fine. I thought you were supposed to pass and help us?”

Johnny sighed theatrically, and seated himself in between Miki and Javier, despite the evident lack of space. Javier wiggled away a little.

“I know, I said that, but things got busy― the Shibs thought they forgot a box of costumes at the last stop. Turns out they didn’t, and it’s all good, but it was still a pain to figure out. The storage is a _mess_. Anyways,” he patted Javier and Miki both on the back, “I’ll make sure to come and see you tomorrow.”

He squeezed their shoulders, and winked at Javier before adding:

“Better have something nice to show me!”

Johnny left, and Javier looked at Miki. The look on his face made her giggle.

 

“You know what would be really awesome?” Miki asked a little after, playing with a butter knife as she watched Javier finish his meal.

Javier raised an eyebrow, mouth full. “What?”

She smiled. “A wheel. A big, human-sized roulette.”

 

Javier came the next day at the same hour for their second practice. He was a bit late, but Miki wasn’t even there yet.

However, the man from yesterday was.

‘Man’ was a big word, Javier thought as he silently watched him tie up some ropes to the sides of the stage. He was humming some melody to himself. There was something weirdly serene in watching someone else being so lost in thought, Javier believed. The guy was working his way into entwining wires and silky fabrics, strangely at ease in the wide labyrinth of beams, seeming to know its every quirk and turns, its every detour and secrets, peaceful and comfortable between light and shadow.

Javier cleared his throat, and the guy looked up to him. Instantly, his eyes went sharp. Javier felt more amused than threatened at the boyish arrogance of his raised chin.

He dropped his bags and smiled at him.

“Miki’s not here?”

The other took a second to stare some more at Javier before shaking his head, left to right.

“Where’s the box?” Javier asked.

Silence. Instead of answering, the guy squinted.

Javier exhaled. It was apparently a habit they all had of not answering people when they didn’t feel like it, and Javier made it appear like he respected it, but truly, he found it plain rude. He walked around a bit, trying to spot his stuff.

“You know,” Javier said to the guy, “it’s the one with the knives in it?”

He looked under the benches, were Miki and he had left it the day before, but it was nowhere to be found. The guy just kept looking at him, unhelpful.

He finally spoke.

“Why would I know?”

It made Javier looked up, a bit startled, a bit annoyed at the other’s attitude. His voice was high-pitched, with a heavy accent.

“Aren’t you in charge of the material?” Javier said.

The guy’s eyebrows rose very high.

“Javier!” Miki’s voice resonated as she arrived. “Sorry for the wait.”

Javier smiled, greeting her with a hand wave. “No problem.” He watched her drop her bags on the benches. “Do you know where’s the stuff? It’s not where we left it yesterday.”

“Oh,” said Miki. “It must be backstage.”

“Could you―” Javier turned to ask the man, but he wasn’t on the stage anymore.

Almost like he had never even been there.

“He’s gone,” said Javier.

“Mh,” Miki came next to him. “Who?”

“The guy― uh, the janitor.”

Miki frowned. “Who?” she repeated.

“You know. He was there yesterday.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, and took a second before saying slowly: “Yuzuru?”

“I don’t know. The one that take cares of the ropes.”

Miki eyes got wide. “Yuzuru’s not a janitor.”

Javier turned to look back at her. Her mouth was a thin line, as if she was trying very hard not to laugh. He scratched the back of neck.

“He’s not?”

That was enough for Miki to finally burst in a fist of laughter, unexpectedly strong, as she put her hands on her face to cover it up.

“No,” she said, and looked at Javier with the endeared smile of a mother whose child just made the ugliest drawing.

“But he does take care of the ropes,” Javier argued, smile on his face, contaminated by Miki’s amusement although not fully understanding it.

“That’s part of his number,” Miki chuckled again, shaking her head.

She walked in direction of the backstage. Javier followed her.

“What number?”

Miki turned her head back to look at him. “Aerial tricks. You see,” she paused, for emphasis. “Yuzuru’s our star.”

Javier made a face. He helped her grab and carry the wooden piece of wall to the stage.

“Oh, well,” he said dramatically, “I don’t remember seeing our _star_ in the show.”

They dropped it against a beam. Miki shook her head.

“You just haven’t seen him yet” she explained. “He hasn’t been performing lately.”

“Why?”

“He was―” she only hesitated for a split second, but it was enough for Javier to notice― “He was a bit sick.”

“Oh,” said simply Javier.

He didn’t ask for more information.

“I hope I haven’t insulted him,” was the next thing he decided to say.

Miki chuckled again. “You probably did.”

“I’ll try to apologize, next time we see each other.”

Miki looked up and shrugged.

“Should be soon enough,” she said, scrutinizing the darkness, “he’s never really far away from the stage.”

At the weirded-out look Javier gave her, she explained: “He has a lot of technical aspects to take care of”, and then, fake-whispered with a smile: “And, to be honest― he’s also a bit intense.”

Javier dropped the box of knives on the ground.

“So he’s just staying here? All day, or what?”

“It’s convenient for practice.”

He snorted. “Convenient for peering.”

Javier had noticed how most teams had access to the stage for rehearsal. He didn’t know by heart the time-slots yet, but he was sure every single member of the troupe passed here at least once a day.

Miki crossed her arms, defensive, as Javier noticed she always got when she felt she needed to justify anything.  

“No need to peer. Nobody’s got anything to hide, in here, Javier.”

He took a good look at her. “Right.”

“I’m serious. We are a troupe, Javi. There are no secrets between us.”

“Didn’t say there was.”

“Good,” Miki smiled, a bit cold. “Practice?”

Javier smiled back. “Practice.”

 

Johnny came, and apparently thought the wheel was a great idea, and not at all a “stupid death machine”, as Javier had dared call it the day before. He told them he would arrange some wooden pieces to be delivered the next day or so. They would have to paint and arrange them at their will.

“There’s no rush anyway,” Johnny said. “You won’t be debuting this week. Take all the time you need to polish the number. I already _love_ the apple thingy’.”

He took a look at one of the knives that rested, planted solidly in the wooden board.

“And I’ll get you a sharpener.”

Miki nodded, and Johnny turned around to point a finger at the knife Javier was playing with.

“Careful with these, also. They’re pretty rusty, and it would be a _real_ shame to have you die of tetanus before you actually get to perform.”

“It would,” said Javier.

“Once we do perform,” Miki said, “and become the crowd’s favorite, we’ll get brand new material, won’t we?”

The smile she gave Johnny was adorable, but he only rolled his eyes, probably immune to this kind request by now.

“That, we’ll see.”

It was enough for Miki to wink at Javier, confident. He tried to cover his smile as Johnny looked back at them.

“Acrobat team will arrive any moment now,” he said, glancing at his pocket watch. “Javi, could you clean” he waved a finger around at the knives on the ground― “ _this_ up for me?”

“Uh,” Javier said. “Sure.”

He glanced at Miki, who was already bending down to help him pick them up, but Johnny didn’t let her join in the task.

“Miki,” Johnny smiled. “Come with me, dear.”

She stopped. She gave an apologetic look at Javier, who shook his head to let her know it was fine, and followed Johnny on his way out.

Javier started to clean up, but soon enough was left there, alone, feeling something wasn’t right.

He couldn’t miss this chance.

Silently, he followed Miki and Johnny. They had exited the big top already, so Javier, swiftly, got down the stage, walked in between the benches, and pressed himself to the fabric, careful not to make it move.

He could hear them talking from outside the curtain wall.

“I’m feeling fine.” It was Miki speaking. “I’m not as tired anymore.”

“Have you had any nausea coming back?”

Javier frowned, and pressed his head even closer. Miki was speaking low, and her words were hard to hear.

He held his breath.

A voice with a heavy accent, loud and clear, resonated next to Javier. It was not Miki’s.

“The storage room is that way.”

It startled Javier so much that, by reflex, before he could even think about it, his hand went straight to his right hip, as to grasp something that used to be there.

It wasn’t. There was nothing there.

Looking straight at Javier, expression unreadable, the guy with the ropes was standing on one the benches.

Yuzuru, Miki had called him.

“Sorry, what?” said Javier, because it was all he could think of, and playing it dumb was always the best way out of something like this.

“The storage room,” Yuzuru repeated. “Your stuff, it is all in the way.”

“Right,” Javier nodded. His mind was racing, but he scratched the back of his neck, going for cool and detached. “Uh― I was going to put it there.”

“Yes,” Yuzuru said, tilting his head slightly. “You were.”

The look on the boy’s face wasn’t good.

Javier had been caught.

There was a split second of tension, and Javier decided to leave it there. He crossed back between the stances to resume cleaning up.

As he walked back to the stage, the other guy’s eyes kept following him.

Javier, chin lifted, didn’t break eye contact until he had to turn his back on him. Before he did, he gave him a quick smirk, so that it would not feel like a defeat.

When he leaned to pick up the knives box, his jaw was tight.

He could still feel the heavy gaze of Yuzuru burning on the back of his neck, and had no trouble picturing him, leaning still on the bench ramp. Through the dark bangs that fell in his slanted eyes, Javier knew he was watching him clean up, analyzing, scrutinizing, and dissecting his every movement. High on the stands, from where he was standing, it was as if he dominated the space.

And Javier couldn’t shake away the feeling that he had just made his very first mistake.


	2. icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can have everyone under your spell,” Yuzuru replied, “but not me. I seeing through you with my eyes closed ― yours, Javier, are full of lies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whaddup, i speak from beyond the grave - just wanna take a moment to say thank you my two betas: to iman, without who this chap would've never been written, and to dianna, without who this chap would have never been posted.

II. ICARUS

 

Javier thought things were finally taking a good turn when he met Misha. It was an opportunity served on a silver platter, as Misha was everything Javier needed: an absolute social butterfly, friends with everyone, smiling, charming, and of course, a little naive.

The thing was ― and Javier had caught on quickly enough ― the troupe was separated into cliques. It didn’t necessarily look like it at first, but it was true. Javier, by association with Miki, found himself  part of the “ribbon team” clique. He didn’t mind it ― they were all very sweet girls, and he enjoyed eating and chatting with them, but this mission was not about enjoyment. Javier needed information.

And information was something Misha had.

What Misha also had, something that was just as important, was the capacity to introduce him to new social groups. Of course, Javier had to work his way there a little, but befriending Misha was easy, and the guy rapidly took a liking to him. So Javier soon felt like it was okay to ask a favor.

“You know,” Javier said to him one morning, “cleaning out the dishes… It’s nice and stuff, but I feel like I could help out better, somehow.”

“What do you mean?” Misha had asked, mouth full of the bread Javier had brought from the dining tent. “You’d like to help out with the animals instead?”

“No, no,” Javier brushed off. God forbid, not the animals. “But well, I see those guys with the loading and unloading, and, you know, it looks like something I could do.”

“Well,” Misha said hesitantly, “That stuff is heavy. That’s why it needs, you know... Big guys.”

Javier gave him a look, and Misha rapidly shook his hands in front of him, taking back his words. “Not that you’re not strong or anything. No, that’s not what I meant. It's just…” He looked to the side, searching for his words. “It’s a pretty shitty job. It’s everyone’s stuff to pack and unpack. Shitty and unrewarding ― people complain. I don’t see why anyone would wanna do it.” He shrugged. “But, if you want, I’ll talk to Johnny ‘bout it.”

“Yeah,” Javier smiled. “That’d be nice. Thanks.”

“No worries.”

Javier dried his hands and put his dishcloth over his shoulder. Misha jumped off the crate he was sitting on, tapped Javier’s back, and waved goodbye to the girls drying the rest of their pile.

“I’ll see you around, ladies,” he said and a couple of them chuckled.

As they were exiting, Misha put an arm around his shoulder and brought his head closer to whisper in his ear. “I don’t see why you’d wanna spend less time with the girls, mate. Ribbon dancers are babes.”

 

So being friends with Misha was great. What was not so great was having to fight for his attention sometimes. And by _sometimes_ , Javier meant _when Yuzuru was there_.

He didn’t understand in the slightest how it worked. The guy appeared and it was like the whole solar system was messed up; everyone lost their natural orbits to gravitate towards him. And by everyone, he meant _everyone_. He would be having a perfectly fine conversation with someone, one where both parties were deeply involved, but then ― the other person’s attention would flinch just for a second, their eyes would leave his face, and Javier would know. He would know it was because Yuzuru had entered the room.

It annoyed him to no end.

“Yuzuru sure seems to come out of his hermitage more frequently these days,” he said to Miki, who snapped her gaze back at him.

“Hm?” she turned her head a little to hear him better, as she took another bite of the meat on her plate. “I didn’t catch what you said, sorry.”

He caught her looking over his shoulder and repressed a sigh.

Javier swore he was not making this up ― Yuzuru did seem to get out of his cave suspiciously more often. He was sure he had never seen him at the meals the first few days he had been here, but since their little encounter behind the stands, Yuzuru made a public appearance at least once a day. Sometimes more. He would arrive in the dining tent, always entering slowly with that strange, entrancing way of walking, shy smile at first when tossing the curtain to the side. But the smile would grow wider, almost blinding, when Misha and others interrupted their meals to rush to him, to laugh with him, give him a place at any table, and drink his every word with starstruck eyes.

Javier understood quickly that Yuzuru at the dining hall and Yuzuru at the Big Top were two very different people.

“I said,” he repeated, careful not to speak too loudly, but the laughs of the table where Yuzuru and Misha sat behind them were so loud it mostly covered the surrounding conversations. “I’ve seen more of Yuzuru in the past five days than I’ve ever seen of him since I got here.”

Miki shrugged, mouth full. “He has the right to get out.” She swallowed and scraped down the remnants of her plate with her chopsticks. “Must get boring, practicing all the time without getting the chance to perform. Depressing, I’d say.”

Javier looked at her, but her eyes were low. He wasn’t sure what she meant; it had been two weeks since they started putting together their number, but Johnny hadn’t yet set a date for their debut. Javier wasn’t impatient, but sometimes, when Miki spoke like this, he could feel she was eagerly to get back to the stage.

“Yeah, well,” he said, “I enjoy practice with you. I don’t find it depressing.”

Her eyes were soft when she locked them with his.

“I enjoy it too, Javi.” Then she nodded her chin at his plate. “Are you done with your food?”

“Uh, sure,” Javier said, setting his utensils to the side. “Go for it.”

He pushed the plate towards her and watched her shove his food in her mouth like she hadn’t already eaten a whole plateful.

“You’ve got one hell of an appetite,” he remarked, a bit bewildered, and she just winked at him in response.

Another fit of laughter resonated behind him. Javier kept his back turned, despite the incomprehensible urge to look back at the source of those laughs and cheers. To look back at that one particular giggle that rang more distinctly in his ears, light, musical, and strangely captivating.  

Javier would not play this little game.

He would keep on chatting with Miki, or with anyone who wasn’t dragged towards Yuzuru’s orbit when he was there, would keep on smiling and minding his own business, thank you very much. He made a special effort not to give any more attention than necessary to the guy, in hopes that if he made himself unnoticed, Yuzuru would drop the hostility he had been addressing at him since they last spoke.

But it wouldn’t work.

Javier could still feel Yuzuru’s gaze burning at the back of his neck. He wondered if his more frequent appearances were only to keep a better eye on him. The thought was both dreadful and infuriating.

Javier had no time to waste on such blatant provocation.

 

“Hey, looks like the lovebird lost his better half!”

A few snickers were heard as the guys kept loading the carriage. No one interrupted their work apart from the one who had just made the joke, smirk still on his lips. He was gauging Javier from head to toe, clicking his tongue.

“Strange seeing you without Miki around. Get tired of hanging out with the girlies yet?”

“Don’t be a jerk, Alex,” Misha said, hand on Javier’s shoulder. “You keep complaining about the lack of people helping with the loading. Makes sense, if you’re such a douche to them. Besides, your sister’s on the ribbon team ― if she heard this, she’d kick your ass.”

The others snickered. Javier only smiled, and Alex crossed his arms. He stared down at him for a more few seconds.

“So,” Misha asked once again. “Can he help?”

Alex shrugged. “Sure,” he sighed, still smirking. “Why not. Let’s go, knifey-boy.”

Misha clapped his hand on Javier’s back and grinned at him.

“Don’t let ‘em get to you,” he said to Javier before leaving. “They’re a bunch of airheads, but they don’t mean any harm.”

Javier smiled at him. “Don’t worry,” he said.

He had tough skin and blending in was his expertise.

 

“How did the loading go?” Miki asked when he sat down next to her on her carriage. “Didn’t get bullied into carrying the heavier stuff?”

“No,” scoffed Javier. In front of them, Tessa gave the signal that they could whip their horses forward. “No, they were cool.”

He hesitated a bit and Miki tilted her head, asking for clarification. Javier shrugged a shoulder.

“Just― a bit distant, I guess. Not sure why.”

“It’ll get better,” Miki smiled, turning her head back towards the road. “You’re a great guy, they’ll get that soon enough.”

Javier glanced sideway at her. “I am?”

“What?”

“A great guy.”

There was a beat of silence. Javier felt a grin forming on his face.

Miki rolled her eyes, and he could see she was trying not to grin back.

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

 

When they arrived at their next destination, Javier figured out why the loading guys had been cold with him. And though the explanation was unsurprising, it still wasn’t the most pleasant.

He slipped away the second Miki got distracted, off to send his report letter to Brian. While walking back to the main carriage to start the unloading, Javier spotted two of the buff guys ― Ondrej and Eric, if Javier recalled right ― chatting at a carriage that wasn’t theirs. He heard some chuckles, and then, without surprise, saw Yuzuru seated in front of them. His legs were hanging off the side, but his hand was on Ondrej’s big shoulder, head thrown back in a laugh that exposed his long neck.

A few other words were exchanged, ones Javier could not catch, but he saw Yuzuru’s arm slide across the guy’s shoulders to hold him into a half-hug and Ondrej placed his big hands on his waist. Before Javier could process what he was witnessing, Yuzuru was already down on the ground, thanking Ondrej for his help. Ondrej’s hands lingered a little, Eric said something that made them all laugh, and then it was done.

Javier walked away, hoping nobody had noticed him staring.

 

“Done,” Alex said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. He gave Javier one hard pat on the back. Javier didn’t stumble. “Thanks for the help, man.”

The guys got down from the big carriage and started walking away, but Javier looked at Alex, confused.

“Uh,” he said. “There’s still stuff in the back.”

Plenty of stuff, actually. The carriage was only about two-thirds empty. Alex, who was already down, put his hands on the wood and extended his neck to see what Javier was pointing at.

“Oh, leave it there,” he said, waving a hand. “That’s old stuff. Nobody uses it.”

Javier frowned. “Then why do we carry it from city to city all over?”

Alex groaned, making a face. He scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, there’s a clean that has to be done, for sure. But, you know, who’s got time for that shit?” He waved a hand at Javier. “Leave it, trust me. It’s too hot right now anyway. Let’s go.”

Javier spared one last look at the pile of boxes and accessories in the back. He could feel a small smile growing on his lips.

“Okay,” he said, grinning at Alex. “You’re the one to know.”

 

Javier swore to himself he would go back and take a look at those boxes as soon as he'd get the chance, but things didn’t go quite as planned.

Johnny came back to watch Miki and him practice their number and was so pleased with it that he brought Stéphane over to see it too. Both of them deemed the show in the next city an appropriate time for their debut. But for that, they’d have to double their practices in the meantime.

As soon as they left, Miki was practically vibrating with excitement. She took him by the hands without warning to spin him around and improvise a little victory dance. Javier couldn’t help but laugh at seeing her this joyful, so she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug to shut him up.

“You’ll see,” she said, face smushed against his chest. “Once you’ve performed, you’ll get it.”

Javier scoffed. “Can’t wait,” he said, holding her a little tighter.

 

Javier heard that Eric guy speak to him for the first time the next day, as they were packing up.

“Hey, careful with that, dude.”

A bit out of breath, Javier took a look at the heavy box he had just dropped on the floor of the carriage. Through the opening of the cardboard, he could see the inside.

“It’s just a bunch of fabric pieces,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” said Eric, arms crossed. “Be careful.”

He left without a smile and Javier shook his head.

 

They arrived at new city, unpacked, settled down. Different day, same routine. Javier was getting used to it now. It was like a drill, and no matter how overwhelming it felt in the first days, leaving no time for Javier to think except when he finally got in his bed at night, exhausted, he was slowly getting the hang out of it.

He would write it all down to Brian in a rush and sleep with the letter tight against his chest, keeping it under his shirt until he could send it without danger.

He took down a box from the carriage, particularly heavy, and asked Alex which pile it was supposed to go to.

“Uh,” said Alex. “I think that’s Yuzuru’s. Just―bring it to his tent, it’s over there.”

Javier squinted. “What, he can’t carry his own stuff?” he said under his breath, and it was snappier than he would have liked.

Alex made a face, but didn’t answer. Ondrej took the box from Javier’s hands.

“Leave it, I’ll just bring it to him,” he just said, shooting him a glare.

A bit bewildered, Javier watched him walk away. When he turned back to the guys, everyone was looking at him like he had just kicked a puppy, and he had no idea why.

“What’s the deal?” he asked Alex. “Even the girls carry their own boxes.”

“C’mon, man,” was all Alex said, looking uncomfortable. Then, lower, after a sigh: “You know ‘bout his leg.”

“His leg?”

“Don’t be so loud,” Alex mumbled, looking to the side.

“Sorry,” said Javier. “What’s the problem with his leg?”

Alex looked at him like he was some kind of moron and Javier couldn’t help but feel like one. “Are you serious?”

“I am,” he insisted. “What―”

“Shhh,” Alex shut him out with a light punch in the stomach. “Hey! Hi Yuzu, what’s up?”

Javier turned around, arm tight around his hurt belly, to see Yuzuru staring at them. Probably only because Alex had just mentioned it, he couldn’t help but look at his legs and notice the way he was leaning on his left one.

“You are talking of me?” Yuzuru asked flatly.

Alex smiled, but Javier could tell it was fake. “Only good stuff,” he said. “Well, _I_ was saying only good stuff.”

Javier scowled at him, the traitor. He looked back at Yuzuru, who was keeping quiet, but the glare he seemed to reserve for Javier was still on full-mode. As Javier had no intention of battling yet another silent intimidation contest with the guy, he turned around to pick up another box.

“Excuse me,” he said while brushing past Yuzuru, who was in his way.

He almost thought the altercation could be done, just like this. But that was too good to be true.

“Javier,” he heard Yuzuru’s voice say, pronounced weirdly.

 _Fuck_ , he thought.

He dropped the box and turned back to face him. Alex was still on the platform of the carriage and Ondrej was standing behind Yuzuru, arms crossed. The height difference was almost comical, Ondrej looking like the largest bodyguard one could imagine, in a picture that was supposed to be intimidating, Javier guessed. He wasn’t feeling threatened by Ondrej.

But Yuzuru had a small smile on his face, and that, Javier felt was dangerous.

“I think I have something that is yours.”

Javier raised his chin, returning a half-smile. “Do you?”

“I do,” said Yuzuru, and he took out something from his belt.

Javier’s smile dropped.

In Yuzuru’s hand was a letter. The letter Javier sent this morning.

“Where did you get that?” Javier said, a bit harsher than he should have.

He took a few steps forward, hand out to grab the letter, but Ondrej caught it from Yuzuru’s fingers before Javier could get too close.

“A kid was running around with it across the camp this morning,” explained Ondrej, tone playful. “You should be more careful.”

“I gave a penny to him so that he could post it in town,” Javier said. “You didn’t have the right to take it from him.”

“For two cents, he let go of it,” said Yuzuru. “Really, you should not give trust to kids.”

All the loading guys had stopped their work to look at what was happening, gathering around them like a show was about to happen.

“Just give it back,” said Javier, jaw tight.

“Why?” Yuzuru tilted his head. “It is a important message?”

Javier heard a few snickers from the sidelines, as if people were amused at the whole thing. Ondrej was sure enjoying it; he looked like he was having the time of his life.

“You see, Javier,” he said, a wide smile on his lips. “In the troupe, we don’t have secrets. So, surely, you don’t mind if we take a look at it?”

“Oh,” said Javier. “But I wouldn’t have thought you could read.”

Despite hearing a few giggles at his comeback, he could do nothing as Ondrej broke the wax seal and took out the folded sheet of paper.

Javier’s heart was beating in his ears.

“Please don’t do that,” he tried, one last time.

“Out loud, please, Ondrej,” said Yuzuru.

Ondrej shot Javier one last amused look before starting his reading.

“ _Dear Laura_ ,” he started, mimicking a bad Spanish accent Javier knew wasn’t even close to the way he spoke. “ _I hope you’re doing well_.”

It made the guys around them laugh. Yuzuru was keeping his eyes locked on Javier’s.

“ _I s_ _end you lots of love. I hope everything’s going fine at the factory, and everything’s going well with the kid. I know he starts school in September, so_ , uh,” Ondrej frowned, and as he kept going he progressively dropped the accent. “So I wish him the best of luck. He’ll be doing great, don’t you worry. I’m sorry I could not send much this month… I ― I…”

Ondrej looked at the letter, like realizing what he was reading was not at all what he expected to find ― whatever it was.

He looked back inside the envelope and saw the few dollar bills inside. He showed it to Yuzuru.

“It’s money,” he said. For a split second, Javier thought he saw Yuzuru’s eyes widen a little, before squinting back in another frown.

Ondrej wasn’t smiling anymore. Nobody was.

The tightness of Javier’s throat showed despite his best efforts. “Are you done now?”

At least Ondrej had the decency to look guilty. Alex took the letter and the envelope from his hands, a bit harshly.

“C’mon, enough of this,” he said and handed it back to Javier. “Here.”

Javier took it.

“Sorry ‘bout all that,” Alex said, voice and gaze lowered.

Javier put back the crumbled piece of paper inside his pocket. Nobody dared make a sound.

He spared one last look at Yuzuru, whose stormy eyes kept staring him down, as out of spite of being wronged, before walking away.

And as he did, he thanked every entity or god there was out there that the unfinished letter he planned to send to Brian this morning was still under his shirt.

 

Miki frowned when she saw him entering the lodgings.

“Are you okay?”

Javier dropped his bag next to the mirrors. “Of course,” he said. “Why?”

Miki stared at him a bit longer, frown deepening, then shook her head.

“I don’t know. I thought you seemed a bit… shaken.”

She went back to rummaging through the box of costumes. Javier glanced at his own reflection in the mirror. He could only see his perfectly composed expression, ever-present smiling face looking back at him, relaxed and confident.

“Must have been the lighting,” he said.

“Must have,” Miki shrugged. “Hey, take a look at this, Johnny brought us our costumes!”

She was proudly holding pieces of clothes in front of him. Brows furrowed, Javier grabbed them with both hands, unfolding the fabric to get an idea of what it would look like on him. The pants were simply black, thank goodness, but Javier examined the top more closely ― a red dress shirt and a black waistcoat, with golden embroideries details on the sides.

He scrunched up his nose. “Are the rhinestones really necessary?”

“They are,” Miki took the costume from his hands with a smirk. “You know how it is. No sparkles, no magic.”

Before Javier could formulate another objection, she took out another costume from the box; a bright red frilly dress that matched his own.

“This is mine,” Miki pressed the top of the dress against her chest and spun around to show him the movement of the skirt. “We’ll fit together! Isn’t it beautiful?”

He watched her twirling around and couldn’t help but smile.

“We’ll look like a pair of flamenco dancers,” he said under his breath.

Miki suddenly stopped her twirling. “A pair of what?” She put a hand on her hips and tilted her head to glare at him. “Is that an insult?”

That made Javier chuckle softly to himself. “Nevermind,” was all he said, because he had no desire to go over and try to explain something related to a home that was so distant, now, that it barely felt relevant at all. Has it not been of the nostalgia’s painful sting, it even barely felt real.

 

Their first time performing would be the next day as planned and Javier knew they were ready, but Miki still insisted they take all of the practice time possible and even more. Javier was vaguely worried someone would come and complain they were stealing their time slot, but nobody did. In the Big Top, for the first time ever, he didn’t even catch a glimpse of Yuzuru, which was strange, and probably linked to the incident from that morning. At least, Javier hoped so ― if the guy had decided Javier wasn’t suspicious, he would maybe give him a break and finally stop scrutinizing his every move.

At dinner that very night, Javier ate with Miki and the girls and at some point, Misha even joined them. The atmosphere was light and nice, especially for Javier, who spent an amazing time not feeling a heavy gaze on the back of his neck while he was eating.

The night fell quickly, and as Javier was getting ready to leave and go rest, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, man.” It was Alex. He looked a bit awkward, but friendly still.

Javier smiled at him. “Hey.”

“We were thinking ― uh, me and the guys, we usually hang around a bit at night after an unloading, and, well... If you feel like it, you could come and grab a drink with us. If that’s something you, uh, you’d like.”

Alex scratched the back of his neck and Javier glanced behind him. A couple of the guys were waiting around Alex’s tent, looking occasionally at them. Javier spotted Eric and Ondrej. He shrugged, nonchalant.

“Sure,” he said. “Why not.”

Alex seemed happy with that answer and, all awkwardness gone, put an arm around his shoulder.

Then, just like that, Javier found himself seated at a table with the loading guys, chatting and laughing in the dim light of the fire lamps in Alex’s tent. A burning sip of rum down his throat, looking at all the bottles standing on the surface of the table, Javier couldn’t help but wonder.

“Where did you get all that?” he asked Alex, who was seated next to him.

Alex shrugged a shoulder. “In the city.”

“The city?” Javier looked down at the drink he was holding in his hand. “What city? We don’t ever stop by a city.”

“We do.”

A guy named Bruno barged into the conversation, shaking his head. “No man,” he said to Alex. “He’s never been.”

“Oh,” said Alex. “Then, yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know.”

“What?” Javier was lost.

“After we’re settled,” explained Bruno, “One or two guys go to the nearest city we’ve stop by to put up some posters. Advertisements, sort of. If you need anything that, you know, can’t really be seen by Gertrude or Johnny…” He clicked his tongue and pointed a finger at himself. “It’s the moment to ask. I can get it for you as I go.”

“Oh,” Javier nodded. “Good to know.”

Alex laughed. He took another sip of alcohol and looked at Javier.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know that. It’s basic.”

“Give him a break,” said Bruno, “He hasn’t even been here for a month.”

“Yeah,” said Alex, while pouring another shot in Javier’s glass, “Doesn’t feel like it. By the way, on that,” he continued, “I think we owe you an apology.”

A weird silence seized the table. Javier scratched his nose.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, man.”

“No,” said Alex. “It wasn’t nice. You didn’t deserve that.”

From the corner of his eye, Javier saw Eric lightly elbow Ondrej, who cleared his throat.

“Yeah, uh,” Ondrej started, apparently having difficulty with looking him in the eye, “It wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

“Really,” said Javier, “It was no big deal. Let’s not talk about it.”

He held his glass up to clink it against Ondrej’s. The big guy smiled at him, reassured, and Javier could feel a tangible tension evaporating from the room. They drank while keeping eye contact.

“It’s been a while since we added a new member to the troupe,” said Alex. “Last one was what ― Alina?” Ondrej nodded. “Forever ago.”

“We’ve been riding like this, with the current numbers, for at least a year now,” explained Ondrej. “We forgot what it was like, to have somebody new hanging around. Of course you’d be looking around,” he snickered, “It’s normal. No reason to panic.”

“Or to draw hasty conclusions,” Eric interjected. He looked Javier in the eye, voice low and serious. “You have to excuse Yuzuru too.”

Javier couldn’t help rolling his eyes a little and smirking as he took a sip of his drink. Eric raised an eyebrow, silently questioning his amusement.

“Can’t carry his own bags,” Javier sighed a bit dramatically, “can’t apologize for himself… What does the guy even do here?”

Nobody laughed, but Javier hadn’t expected them to.

“There’s context,” said Ondrej.

He was fumbling with his glass, looking to the side, and Javier could tell the subject was uneasy. He also could tell maybe Ondrej had had one glass too many. He didn’t want to push it, but he knew he couldn’t let this go.

“What context?”

Ondrej was about to say something but Eric spoke faster, interrupting whatever confession he was about to make.

“Really, it’s not something to joke about.”

“I’m not joking,” objected Javier, brows furrowed, a little annoyed that this was the reputation he apparently earned himself in just three weeks. “Or mocking. Is it about his leg?”

Eric shook his head, scrunching his nose, while Alex took a big sip of his bottle.

“Nah,” said Ondrej. “Or yeah, I guess.”

“What’s the deal? Is it injured?”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Ondrej made a face, looking unsure on how to formulate what he wanted to say. “You don’t know. It’s, uh, not there.”

Javier squinted, and Ondrej tried to get his point across by making vague hand gestures.

“I mean ― it’s fake,” he said. “It’s cut off.”

Javier’s eyebrows raised very high. “What?” He stared at them, but no one around the table looked like they were joking. “How? I mean ― ” He collected his thoughts as the realization progressively settled in. “Ouch.”

“It’s not recent or anything,” corrected Eric, “As long as I’ve known him, it’s been like that.”

“Doesn’t it hurt? He walks on it?”

Ondrej scoffed. “He doesn’t only do that.”

At Javier’s confused face, Alex began to explain.

“Since it’s solid, it helps with his aerial tricks.” Alex took a shoelace that was laying on the table and wrapped it around his arm. “If it was flesh ―” he tugged harshly on the shoelace, which constricted his skin in a rather painful looking way. “It would hurt,” he said, letting go. “But since it’s wood, or something ―”, he wrapped the shoelace around the top of his bottle. “It’s solid. It feels nothing.”

He tugged the shoelace up and the bottle followed, hanging, swaying slowly left to right.

Javier’s eyes followed the rocking of the bottle for a moment. “Aerial tricks?”

Alex scoffed, letting the bottle down on the table. “You’d have to see it to understand.”

“He flies, man,” said Ondrej, putting down his empty glass for Bruno to fill once more. “He just soars.”

Javier tried to hide the smile that was threatening to come out at such a dramatic declaration. It failed, apparently.

“Don’t laugh, man,” Ondrej pointed a finger at his face and Javier chuckled at his clumsy, drunken attempt at making a point. “I said don’t laugh! You always laugh. It’s serious, it’s sad. Nothing’s the same, now.”

Alex patted Ondrej’s shoulder, shushing him as he pouted into his drink. Ondrej didn’t look like he wanted to shut up and Javier didn’t want him to.

“What changed?” he asked.

“The show!” Ondrej exclaimed. “The whole thing! It sucks!”

“Calm down, mate,” said Eric, soothingly. “The show doesn’t suck.”

“Bullshit!”

“I swear, it doesn’t,” Javier knew it looked like he was tentatively trying to console him, but he was being sincere. “I’ve seen it many times and it’s good. People love it ― I love it. It’s great.”

“It’s not!” He pointed angrily at the other guys around the table. “Why are you pretending it is?”

Nobody answered, so Javier took upon himself to try and calm him one more time.

“It’s just one number, Ondrej,” he said, “out of like, twenty. Really, I don’t think people find the show lacking of anything.”

That made Ondrej’s eyes go huge. They were already pretty big, so the addition of shock made his expression almost comical.

Eric handed him a glass filled with water, a little smile on his face. Ondrej gulped it down, slowly, before turning to Bruno.

“Bruno,” he said. “How ‘bout you show him the posters?”

With a sigh, Bruno took his jacket from the chair next to him. Javier watched closely as he extracted a small pile of paper. He handed one to Javier.

“It’s the posters I bring to the cities, for advertising,” he explained.

Javier looked down at the paper. It was embroidered and detailed, red and filled with golden embellishments on the margins. The stylized black letters spelled:

~ORIENTAL DELIGHTS, TRICKS, AND CURIOSITIES~

THE DOZEN WONDERS OF THE WORLD

WELCOME

Y **O** U

TONIGHT

― 9 PM ―

_HEAD to the EAST_

The big “O” in “Y O U” was drawn excessively large. A line linked it to the top of the page, making it appear like a loop attached to a rope in the sky. Hanging from the loop by one bent leg, a black silhouette was drawn, flying high in what seemed like a terrifyingly difficult position. The impossible slenderness of the masculine body made it easy to recognize it was based on Yuzuru and Javier almost hated that he could identify it so easily. He ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the paper.

It was silent around the table. The guys were staring down at their glasses but nobody appeared like they wanted to drink anymore. Javier looked up, questions in his eyes.

“He’s kind of the main attraction of the show,” admitted Alex, looking at the poster with an almost sad look in his eyes.

“Why isn’t he performing, then?” Javier asked.

He caught the look Alex and Eric exchanged, quick and subtle.

“He injured his thigh,” Eric said then, looking straight at Javier. “Severely. He fell down.”

This part must have been true, or Eric was a worryingly good liar. Javier nodded.

“That’s too bad. Will it heal?”

Eric shrugged. “Let’s hope.”

“In the meanwhile,” said Alex, strongly patting Javier on his back, clearly trying to lift the mood, “at least we have a new number. Let’s not dwell ― cheer up! I’m sure you’ll add a lot of pep to the show.”

“That’s why Yuzu hates your ass,” mumbled Ondrej, words slurred by the alcohol.

Javier frowned, and Eric squinted, confused. Ondrej had rested his face on his hand. He looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

“What are you saying, man?” asked Eric.

“Bleh,” Ondrej said ineloquently, “don’t act like you’re surprised. He says the guy looks suspicious ―” he nodded his chin at Javier with a scoff, “but look at his doe-eyed face. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. C’mon, Eric.”

“C’mon what?”

“You know. Yuzu’s like that because he fears Javier’s gonna take his place ― it’s as clear as water.”

Eric sighed and took him by the arm to raise him from the bench he was sitting on.

“You’re talking nonsense, now. Let’s go, I’ll bring you back to Valentina.”

“I’m not ― I _know_ Yuzu, okay. He’s my friend. We _get_ each other―”

“No you don’t,” scoffed Eric. “Say goodnight, now.”

Ondrej mumbled a weak ‘goodnight, now’ to them before they both headed out of the tent. They all waved at him weakly, and a few seconds of awkward silence followed their departure.

“I should go, too,” said Bruno, and with him everyone got up.

“Yeah,” Javier said. “Time to sleep.”

“You got your first show tomorrow, right?” Bruno’s big hand grasped Javier’s shoulders. “Good luck. Try not to stress.”

“I won’t.”

Alex accompanied Javier to the exit of his tent.

“Don’t worry about Yuzuru,” he said to him at last, low, after the others had left. “And don’t judge him too fast. He can be a bit harsh ― but that’s what comes with being so great.”

“Whatever,” said Javier. “I don’t wish anything bad on the guy ― just for him to leave me alone.”

Alex scoffed. “Wouldn’t bet too much money on that happening anytime soon, man.”

 

In the dead of night, after Alex had closed the fabric door of his tent and blown out his light, Javier walked to the container. Everything was silent, except for the sound of his footsteps on the gravel.

When he arrived, he glanced behind to make sure no eyes were following him. The night was pitch black, and everyone was sound asleep, but Javier had learned early enough that he could never be too careful. He took the keys out of the inner pocket of his shirt, the ones he quickly stolen from Alex’s desk when everybody was heading out. Nobody would notice until the next morning but Javier would drop them in some random place in the camp before that, as soon as he could have a proper look at what he wanted to see.

He unlocked the carriage’s back-end and got inside, closing the wooden doors behind him. The match he lit only allowed him to find his way through to the end of the carriage without stumbling on the random mess that laid everywhere. He had to light up a second one to really get a look at the boxes.

They were dusty ― Javier hadn’t seen anyone touch them since he had been there. He started rummaging through the clutter. In between wooden planks, ugly costumes, piles of old posters, and all kinds of weird show artifacts, he was starting to lose hope ― every box he opened seemed filled with more junk and useless stuff.

As he lit up what felt like his hundredth match though, something caught his eye.

In the top corner of the trunk he just closed was written something. Javier squinted.

It looked like a name ― _N. Morozov_.

Making a face, Javier took another look at the inside of the box. It was just a bunch of costumes, girl costumes. He looked back at the other boxes, scratching his forehead.

Most of them were just blank of any identification― but now that he was paying attention, Javier noticed that names were actually written on the corner of several boxes. All of them he recognized: _A. Rippon_ for Adam, the contortionist, _Virtue &Moir _ for Scott and Tessa, even _J. Weir_ for Johnny. All of them, except Morozov, who he was sure he didn’t know and never heard of.

A couple of boxes were under that name, but no matter of much time he spent going through them, Javier couldn’t deduce what number N. Morozov was part of. The objects were too disparate.

Slightly frustrated and almost out of matches, Javier decided to let it go for now. He cleaned up the mess he made and rearranged it into the mess it used to be. Glancing back at the pile one more time before heading off, Javier blew out his last match.

  1. _Morozov_ , he thought while walking back to his tent in the dark, _who were you, dead man?_



 

“Javi!” he felt someone shake his shoulder. “Javi? Are you ready? We’re next.”

He blinked. Miki was standing in front of him, frowning.

“Uh,” he said, taking a look around, unsure.

They were in the backstage. The lighting was dim, and he could barely see Miki’s worried face in front of him. Loud music and roars could be heard, as well as audience gasps and applauds.

Right. Evgenia was performing. He had gotten lost in his thoughts.

He and Miki were next.

“You look nervous,” she said in a hurried whisper. “Are you okay?”

Actually, not at all. Javier felt like he would vomit.

“Miki,” he said, “I can’t do this.”

“What?” She grabbed his shoulders to shake some courage into him. “Of course you can!”

Javier shook his head. “No, really. I’ll―” His voice cracked in the least virile way possible. “Miki, listen. I’ll _kill_ you.”

She squinted one last time before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Oh, Javi,” she said, letting go his shoulders to wrap her arms around his waist in a tight hug. “You are being ridiculous. Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

Her hug was soothing, and he ran a hand down her back. But still ―

“What if it doesn’t?”

She stepped back to ‘tsk’ at him.

“Don’t worry,” she repeated. “I am not afraid, not the slightest. If you don’t believe in yourself, then ― at least believe in me.”

The smile she gave him was warm and confident. Javier forced his shoulders to relax a little bit.

Miki brought a finger to his face, and touched his cheekbone lightly, right below the eye. She then brought the same finger to touch her own face, locking her gaze in his.

“Look in my eyes,” she said. “And everything will be okay.”

 

And he did. And it was.

 

The cheers were deafening but, in the end, as Javier went to the other side of the stage to help Miki out of her wheel and down her platform, he could hear nothing, feel nothing, see nothing but her happy face and shining eyes. They looked at each other for a moment, grins widening, before turning away to bow at the audience.

He felt Miki’s hand grabbing his and, for the first time since the beginning of the day, the anxious ball of adrenaline in his gut unrolled in waves of excitement. He squeezed her hand and bowed again before letting go. He took a step back, clapping with the audience, handing the spotlight to Miki, letting the cheers and applauds be for her, and hers only, for a moment.

When she did the same for him, he felt the excitement shift into something different as he watched the crowd raise from their seats to give him a standing ovation. Something akin to joy.

They waved one last time and exited to the backstage. They hugged behind the scenes, sweaty and exhilarated ― the cheers were only beginning to fade now, as they heard Johnny get on the stage to present the next number.

“You see,” Miki whispered to him. “I told you.”

Javier heard himself chuckle, high-pitched. “You did.”

She leaned backwards a bit, just enough to get space to cradle his face with her hands. She smiled at him, eyes still bright and shining, even though no spotlight was there to blind her anymore.

“Javier Raya,” she said, fond. “You are incredible.”

Javier looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something ― but the acrobats’ music cue cut him off. Miki’s smile grew as Javier scoffed.

“Want to head out, maybe?” she suggested.

“Yes, please,” Javier said, too quickly perhaps. “I need some fresh air.”

She grabbed his moist palm in her hand. They escaped the backstage through an opening Miki knew of, fully aware they’d have to come back to help with the cleaning, but they allowed themselves to conveniently forget about it as they were giggling under their breath like teenagers. They ran, zigzagging their way around the tents, all the way to the other end of the camp. When they finally rested, laughing and totally out of breath, it was to stumble down and sit at the back of a grassy hill, high enough to block their view of the camp, low enough for them to still see the higher part of the big top, glowing brightly in the night sky.

“That was ―,” Miki said, panting through her giggles, “crazy. And amazing. Crazily amazing.”

Javier looked at her and the sight of her disheveled hair, her fancy dress spread in the weeds, and her wide grin threw him back into another fit of laughter.

“What?” she said, but she was laughing too. “Don’t you think so?”

“No, I ― of course it was,” Javier smiled.

He laid in the grass, arms crossed under his head, and looked at the stars. He felt Miki lay beside him too, a bit too close, perhaps, but the thrill of the show wasn’t gone ― and this felt okay. Just fine.

They rested like that for a moment, until both of their breathing eventually slowed back to normal. Javier’s heart was still pounding fast in his chest.

“I feel so good,” he heard Miki break the silence after a while, a whisper. “Haven’t felt this good in so long.”

“Yeah,” Javier said.

Things were a bit hazy in his mind ― he felt good too, better than he had for a while, but some voice in the back of his mind, the one he knew he should always trust, was imploring him to pull himself back up together. To focus ― focus on what? Javier closed his eyes. The thing was, he didn’t feel like going back into focus. This high was nice, he liked the blurriness.

He opened an eye when he felt Miki shift to his side. She was half-seated now, one elbow on the ground to lift herself up so that she could look down at Javier. He smiled at her.

She smiled back. He liked her smile.

“Javi,” she said. “I’m so glad you joined us.”

“Me too.”

“Listen, I ― I’m so happy I met you.”

Javier smiled at her once again, a ‘ _me too, Miki_ ’ on the verge of his lips, when suddenly ― they couldn’t move, because Miki’s own lips were on them.

And just like that, the spell broke.

Javier reflexively pulled away, a sheer, automatic body reaction. The haze was gone ― his mind now spinning a thousand miles an hour, blood pumping loud in his ears.

They looked at each other, wide-eyed and lips parted in mirrored confusion. He brought a hand to his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Miki said.

 _Fuck_ , Javier thought. Too late. He screwed up.

“No,” he said, blinking. “No, _I’m_ sorry ― I, you ― you just startled me a little―”

But he could see Miki shrinking visibly before his eyes, and no, no ― he couldn’t afford to lose a chance like this.

“Listen,” he tried, slight panic at the edge of his voice, “I―”

“It’s okay,” Miki said. But it wasn’t; her arms were folded around her knees, she was looking down, and her voice was strangled. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

It was in those moments Javier truly hated how dumb he could be. If he hadn’t let his mind slip away ― if only he had just chased that haze away as soon as he felt it ― if he had his whole brain, his whole focus ― he would’ve seen this coming. If he had seen it coming, he would have braced himself ― it would have been okay. He could’ve taken a kiss. And not cowardly shrunk away, following a gut feeling of something wrong, in a movement that looked very much like disgust.

“Miki,” he said, hating how his voice betrayed him by cracking.

And Javier wished he could have just told her, instead of looking at her with big, helpless eyes, words caught up in his throat ― told her that it wasn’t about her, that she was lovely and really, truly, Javier would’ve loved to kiss her, but he just couldn’t. It wasn’t about her, it was about him.

A tight squeeze of anger and regret seized his stomach ― like always, shame. He pushed it away, deep and far, because this was not the time or place to start dwelling on it. He pushed it away, gathered up his courage and self-control, and leaned forward to kiss her again, slowly.

It was nothing more than the soft press of lips on lips and really, it wasn’t that bad. He felt her sigh against his lips before he drew back, hoping he managed to save whatever was about to crumble between the two of them. Or, at least, that he could have transmitted words that wouldn’t come out otherwise, rusty explanations that would probably have made Miki run away from him, as far as possible, if he was to ever tell her.

She slowly smiled at him and opened her eyes.

And just by this look ― this kind, soft look, Javier knew it was fine. He didn’t know how, or why, but his mom had always told him women had an easiness with feelings forever unreachable to men, an intuition and comprehension that spread way further than he could imagine, around things he couldn’t even comprehend. In this look Miki gave him, he felt understanding, and his throat constricted.

“Javier,” Miki said, soft and solemn. “You are so kind.”

Javier smiled, looking down because he could not stand her gaze, even in the dim lighting of the moonlight, and because people had always told him that, but he wasn’t sure it ever had been true.

She brought her hand up to his face to turn back his chin towards her. In her eyes, strangely, Javier saw a distant sadness, too profound to be related to him in any way.

“Way too kind,” she continued, “for this kind of place.”

 

They returned to the camp in silence, avoiding each other’s gaze. Nobody was back from the Big Top yet, so there was nothing to look at, nothing to listen to, except the sound of their feet on the grass. They parted awkwardly, waving each other half-hearted goodnights.

Javier thought of hugging her, the way they usually did when they split, but Miki was already a few feet away, half-turned, smile already fading in the darkness. Javier sighed, standing still for a moment as he watched her leave. When he walked back to his tent, it was mechanically, his mind filled with things he should or could have said to make the situation better the next morning.

He pushed the fabric door of his tent to the side, gaze lowered, and turned right away to take off his stupid sparkly waistcoat. It flew right into his open suitcase. He exhaled, finally able to breathe properly, and stepped back to glance at the mirror as he started to untuck his shirt from his pants.

The sound of a light _click_ made him freeze.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror, perfectly immobile. Slowly tilting his head to the side, he noticed, right behind him, somebody seated on his bed.

It was Yuzuru.

The yellow light of the kerosene lamp made shadows dance across the side of his face, hardening his eyes and his cheekbones, turning his expression into something intense and unreadable. His legs were folded sideways on the bed, one arm rested to his side, holding himself up, in a position that didn’t suggest defense nor attack, just careful patience.

He was holding a gun.

Javier felt a smirk form on the corner of his lips. He slowly raised his palms in front of him, gaze still locked with Yuzuru’s through the mirror’s glass.

“Yuzuru,” he said, “pleasant surprise.”

He saw him raise his chin up, defiant. Calculating.

“You’ve been waiting here for long?” Javier continued, playing it casual. “Must have been lonely.”

Yuzuru kept quiet but brought his second hand up to steady his grip on the gun. Javier’s smile grew even more. He turned around to face Yuzuru, palms still up.

“Careful with that,” he nodded at the gun. “It’s not a toy.”

Yuzuru titled his head to the side and, finally, spoke.

“I know,” he said. “Is a strange thing to keep under a pillow, really.”

Javier smiled. “So that’s why you weren’t at the show,” he said. “You were too busy looking through my things ― again.”

Yuzuru shrugged. “I found what I look for.”

“Think you did, this time?”

Yuzuru squinted and Javier pouted, playful.

“Felt weird, you know,” he tried changing subject. “Performing without you staring from the roof. But we still did good, don’t worry.”

“I can’t care less about your performance. Hands up,” Yuzuru added quickly when he saw Javier try to lower them.

He brought them back up with a sigh. Yuzuru nodded at him, small smile curling his lips ― and Javier hated how he had no idea where this was heading; as always, when Yuzuru was involved.

“I ask,” Yuzuru told him, “why a man with nothing to hide keep a gun so close to him for sleep. What he has to fear?”

Javier raised an eyebrow. “Me? Is this a real question?” He blinked. “Maybe people with so much hostility towards me they invade my privacy and openly threaten to shoot me?”

Yuzuru scoffed, one single breathy sound. He raised both arms higher, stiffening his elbows and closing an eye, as if to get a better aim.

And Javier, well ― Javier repressed a snicker. Clearly, the guy had never held a gun before.

“You can have everyone under your spell,” Yuzuru replied, “but not me. I seeing through you with my eyes closed ― yours, Javier, are full of lies.”

Javier couldn’t help but snicker at _that_. “Are they?”

Yuzuru didn’t laugh at the way Javier exaggeratedly widened them, fake panic mimicked for a second. He kept his perfect composure, small smile ever-present at the corner of his lips, but face otherwise still and smooth like always. He looked surreal in the dim lighting of the tent - like a statue, or a painting of an angel.

Well, minus the gun.

“They are,” he answered simply.

Javier tried to keep his own poise. “How about you tell me which lies?”

“I not say for sure now,” Yuzuru said, calm, and Javier’s shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. “There is too many, and they are layers, tangles. What I _say_ is lies are born from fear ― and fear make men dangerous.”

Javier swallowed as Yuzuru got up, pointing the gun directly at his head from afar.

“Now,” Yuzuru hummed, “how about _you_ tell me - is there one reason I should not shoot, right now?”

“Apart from the fact that you’d probably miss?”

Yuzuru frowned. “Don’t think you are only one who can aim.”

“Well then,” Javier shrugged, “what’s stopping you?”

Yuzuru flinched ― Javier didn’t miss it. They stared at each other for a moment. Javier could imagine the way Yuzuru’s mind was probably racing, trying to guess what he was thinking; what pushed him to act this way. Javier just kept smiling, blatantly provoking him, as he watched his frown deepening.  

Yuzuru took a breath and exhaled sharply. He pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked, but nothing came out.

Javier’s eyebrows sprung up. “Wow, rude. You actually _would_ have shot me.”

Yuzuru was still frowning as he examined the gun, twisting the cylinder open.

“Empty,” he observed, glancing back at Javier. “Why?”

Javier smiled. He had noticed the way Yuzuru’s expression went from cold and ruthless to genuinely intrigued, even entertained. Not breaking eye contact, he started unlacing his shirt. He saw Yuzuru blink, glance once at his revealed chest and instantly looked back up, not letting any emotion show. Javier took out a little box from under his shirt.

“Here are the bullets,” he said, hearing the tinkle and chink of them as he lightly shook it up.

He threw the box at Yuzuru, who caught it and took a second to look down at it. He didn’t open it, but Javier saw him rub the back of his finger over the metal. When he glanced back at Javier, there was definitely a spark of amusement in his eyes.

“You keep a lot of things under that shirt,” he said.

“Each one nicer than the last,” Javier replied, and wondered right away why he did.

Against all odds, it made Yuzuru smile. A sincere, amused smiled that for the first time was addressed at him. It felt strange.

He watched Yuzuru put down the little box of bullets, still unopened, on the bed. When he walked up to him, Javier was left wondering for a split second which was the hardest: not looking at Yuzuru’s legs, or not looking at Yuzuru’s face.  

He brushed past Javier, but, at the very last moment, turned to him to drop the gun in his hands. Javier closed his fingers around the barrel.

“Thanks.”

But Yuzuru didn’t let go of the grip. Instead, he took a step closer, far closer than he had ever been to Javier, so close that Javier could actually see, for the first time, the light touch of dark brown in his eyes, warmer than the distant pitch black he could only see before.

“I wouldn’t have missed,” Yuzuru whispered, eyes wide to make his words appear very serious.

Javier raised an eyebrow. “You’ve missed twice already, Yuzuru.” That made him frown, but Javier only smiled. “Face it.”

“Face what?”

“That maybe you’re wrong about me.”

Yuzuru let go of the gun.

“I will figure out,” he said.

Javier shrugged. “Take your time.”

Yuzuru looked at him one last time, gaze heavy, but Javier was getting used to it by now, so he didn’t flinch. Yuzuru walked out his tent without a smile.

Javier was left staring at the gun in his hands. It was still warm. He put it on the table next to his bed.

His fingers lingered on it for an instant, before he shook his head to clear his mind.

 

The next day, as Javier parted with Bruno on the middle of the main street of Kingston, he almost couldn’t believe his luck. He watched him walk away, losing sight of him quickly in the crowdy avenue, where tramways, horses, and pedestrians were co-habiting wildly, messily, pushing against each other, where shouts of street vendors could be heard, where kids were running away from angry sellers, their laughter echoing all around Javier as they passed him.

He had followed Bruno to his weekly trip to the nearest city, both for the official errands Johnny and Gertrude had asked for and the ‘unofficial’ ones members of the troupe had requested discreetly. They had the whole afternoon to get everything, which was way longer than either of them needed. Both had nonetheless agreed beforehand to part ways and separate the things to get on the list, only to get back a few hours later, no questions asked.

Javier had a little idea of what Bruno intended to do during those few hours ― he had heard of a girl he exchanged letters with on a regular basis ― but he pretended he didn’t, so Bruno wouldn’t ask questions either about where Javier headed off to.

What a mutually beneficial agreement.

When he was sure that Bruno was out of sight, Javier pulled out the crumbled piece of paper he had in the inner pocket of his coat. He looked at the directions, squinting to try and find the right street name without getting hit by a horse carriage.

He took off his hat when he finally entered the right bar. A few heads glanced up at him before turning back away, unconcerned and bored already. The bartender was wiping his counter with a gray dishcloth that looked like it had seen better days.

Brian was nowhere to be seen.

Javier sat down at the bar and ordered a whiskey. He glanced at his pocket watch, frowning. He was a bit late, but it was unusual for the Chief to be as well. As he took a burning sip of his drink, he wondered if everything was okay.

“Hey, what’s up, Fernandez?”

Javier almost choked on his whiskey. He glanced up at the lanky figure standing next to him, wide smile on his face ― the last person he thought he would meet today.

“Jun Hwan?” he said, confused. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The kid’s grin was almost blinding as he sat down next to Javier, straightening his coat like some kind of important business man. Javier hadn’t seen him in, what? Six months? It felt like an eternity. He had been an intern under Ghislain, regional chief inspector in Javier’s branch for about a year. Javier recalled that he made great coffee.

“I’m your correspondent,” Jun Hwan replied. Javier noticed him slightly puff out his chest. “And by the way, it’s Officer Cha now.”

“What?” Javier blinked. He leaned closer to whisper: “Where’s Brian? Did something happen to him?”

Jun Hwan frowned. “No? He sent me to meet you. I’m an actual recruit now, Fernandez. The real deal.”

Javier clicked his tongue. He lightly caught Jun Hwan by the collar to shush him.

“Stop calling me by my real name, _estúpido_ ,” he whispered at him. “And take off that stupid hat, it just makes you look more suspicious.”

Jun Hwan pouted, but did take off his stupid hat. Javier felt a little bad.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m kind of on edge.”

Jun Hwan eyes widened. He nodded eagerly.

“Of course, of course, you must be! How’s that going? Nobody tried to murder you yet?”

Javier chose not to answer that. “It’s hard,” he said instead, rubbing his forehead. “Real hard.”

Jun Hwan pursed his lips. “I bet.” Javier looked back at him and saw the boyish sparkle of excitement he associated so much with his enthusiastic intern days burn in the back of his eyes. “But you’re so,” Jun Hwan continued, “ _so_ cool, Javier.”

Javier sighed, closing his eyes for a second. Jun Hwan took that as his cue to keep going.

“It’s true! Everybody wishes they were you at the office, you know. Well, not me, you know, but, uh, other people. Nobody _ever_ went on such a dangerous undercover mission for so long. We always talk about you, Gabby and I. Well ― mostly me. She tells me to shut up and work, but yeah and oh, I took your desk, by the way. I had to fight for it, Nam wanted to be closer to Gabby but―”

“Kid,” Javier interrupted. “Do you have the docs I asked Brian for?”

Jun Hwan scrambled around to find his suitcase. “Yeah, yeah, of course, oh my, I’m so sorry. Here, there it is.”

“Thanks.” Javier couldn’t help but to smile a little fondly at his fumbling against his will. Ah, the recruit days.

“So,” Jun Hwan put on his glasses to decipher which folders he held in his hands. “I’ve got the background check on every name you asked for.” He handed him a folder Javier opened with a sigh. “I highlighted the notable facts― there isn’t that many. Alex Shibutani spent a night in jail back in Vancouver for getting involved in a street fight five years ago. A note about how it was to defend his sister. Stephane Lambiel ― disturbance while being intoxicated. Doesn’t really specify what. It’s in three difference provinces. Also, fraud ten years ago. Johnny Weir ― multiple warnings, no arrest.”

“Warnings about what?”

“Possession of undeclared stuff — weapons, animals, poisonous snakes, oh? Plants, also. Yeah. Heavy case.”

Javier nodded. “Anything else?”

“Uh — robbery and isolated stealing cases. Aljona Savchenko, Boyang Jin, Scott Moir, Evgenia Medvedeva, Kaetlyn Osmond. Nothing really serious.”

“Okay,” Javier closed the folder. “That’s it?”

“Well, for the regular background checks, yeah.”

Javier squinted. “You’ve got nothing on Yuzuru Hanyu?”

Jun Hwan went through the papers again, frowning.

“Uh, not really. You asked for the most info possible ― you want that now?” Javier nodded. “I got a few doctor bills in Victoria, but after, uh. Radio silent. He’s legal, too. Came from Japan seven years ago, boarded on the _Pacific_. It’s a boat. But, uh, that’s it.”

Javier sighed. Jun Hwan raised his eyes back at him.

“Do you want the info on Miki Ando too?” he asked him.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Totally clean. Used to be a teacher in Manitoba, but left abruptly one day for no reason. The school never heard from her again, and uh, that’s it. Oh — apart from the fact that her parents were immigrants.”

Javier made a face. “Well, that’s very helpful,” he mumbled.

“Sorry. You want to hear more about Weir? It’s interesting.”

Javier glanced at his watch.

“No,” he said. “Give me his folder, I’ll look at it more closely when I get the time. What do you have on N. Morozov?”

Jun Hwan’s eyes grew huge. “Oh! The dead man!”

“Lower your voice, please,” Javier reprimanded him, and Jun Hwan brought a hand to his mouth to hide his gasp.

“Sorry — I’m so sorry. So uh, Morozov.”

“Morozov,” Javier repeated.

“Morozov, yeah. Illegal immigrant, from Russia, likely.”

“Mhm,” Javier encouraged him.

“Uh,” Jun Hwan averted his gaze. “That’s it, Javi.”

Javier blinked. “What? That’s the only thing we got on him? No job, no wife?”

Jun Hwan shrugged. “These people are very careful, staying as low-profile as they can. I’m not saying he didn’t do anything. Just that, on the record ― he’s clean. I mean, he almost doesn’t exist.”

Javier rubbed his face with his hand. “Fucking _mierda_.”

Jun Hwan watched him as he gulped down the rest of his drink. A few seconds passed in silence before any of them spoke again.

“You know,” Jun Hwan then said tentatively, with a hint of sorrow in his voice. “Nobody went to ask for the body. Even after we put a word in the _Country’s_ newspaper. That’s sad.”

“Yeah,” Javier breathed. Then, abruptly, after a second of realization: “After you did _what?_ ”

“What?” Jun Hwan blinked.

“After you did _what_?” Javier repeated, louder, clearly panicked. “You put _a word_ in the _Country’s_ _newspaper_!?”

“Uh,” Jun Hwan was visibly not seeing the issue, but looked a bit taken aback by Javier’s tone. “Well, to see if someone would come and pick up the body, of course! And give us info about the guy!”

“You can’t possibly be serious.”

“What’s the deal? It was worth taking a shot! If someone knew Morozov —”

“But nobody did, Jun Hwan!” Javier almost felt like banging a fist on the table. “And nobody was supposed to! I’m the one who found out his name ― how could the police have known? How could have anybody know, Jun Hwan, without me?”

Jun Hwan’s eyes grew bigger. “Oh,” his lips parted.

Javier rested his forehead on his palm.

“I’m so, so sorry, Javi ―”

“They’ll know.” Javier shook his head. “I’m sure they already do. God, I’m screwed ― and now I have to go back and ―”

“You don’t,” Jun Hwan said.

Javier shut his mouth and looked at him, confused.

“Really, you don’t,” Jun Hwan repeated. “I’ll say it’s my fault, because it is. Brian will understand.”

Javier blinked. “What ―”

“We’re already looking for a mandate against Lambiel,” he continued, too fast for Javier to interrupt him. “We’ve got enough against him with the boxes bearing the victim’s name, he’ll have no choice but to go back to Toronto or ―”

“Listen, listen,” Javier frowned as he rubbed his temples. “Jun Hwan, it’s ― it’s not Lambiel. It’s more complicated than that, I swear. It’s... bigger.”

Jun Hwan looked at him, expression indecipherable for a second.

“But you don’t know anything yet,” he said, voice small. “How can you tell?”

Javier shook his head. He thought of Miki, of Eric, of Weir. Of Yuzuru.

“I’m getting closer each passing day. Just ― you have to give me more time, okay?”

Jun Hwan still looked uncertain. Javier sighed and ordered another round of drinks.

“When did the word about Morozov get published?” he asked.

Jun Hwan swallowed his whiskey with a grimace. “Eight days ago.”

Javier nodded pensively. “Okay. That’s good. I haven’t heard anything about it yet.” He breathed. “I don’t think most of them know how to read anyway.”

Jun Hwan chuckled, but it was still a bit breathy and nervous. Javier patted his shoulder.

“Don’t freak out, kid. Leave the folders with me. Thank you so much for bringing them.” He took out the piece of paper he was carrying. “Bring that to the Chief. Tell him we’ll be crossing to Québec in about a week.”

“Sure,” Jun Hwan nodded, gaze low.

Javier tilted his head to meet his eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” he said, tone gentle.

Jun Hwan smiled a little. He shook his head. “I know,” he said. “It’s just ― Gabby will kill me if she learns you died because of me.”

Javier scoffed. “Well,” he said, “then let’s hope that it won’t happen.”

 

When he walked into practice the next morning, Miki was already there.

She was mindlessly sharpening their knives, putting very little enthusiasm into the job. She didn’t even glance up when Javier arrived.

“Lookin’ sharp, today,” he tentatively joked.

Miki ignored him. She continued grinding the stone against the blade of the knife she was holding.

“You weren’t here yesterday,” was the only thing she replied.

Javier sighed as he dropped his bag near the stands and proceeded to take off his jacket.

“I went to the city with Bruno to help out with errands,” he said. “I told Misha to tell you. I’m sorry if he didn’t.”

Miki sighed too. “He did.”

“Then what is it? Why are you mad?”

Miki looked back at him. She didn’t look mad, but Javier could definitely see hurt in her eyes.

“You couldn’t even bother to tell me yourself?” she said, sharply.

Javier stepped back with a frown. Miki held herself together for a second, then crumbled down, putting her face in her hands, lightly shaking her head from side to side.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed.

“It’s okay,” Javier said, gentle.

“It’s just―” Miki inhaled, then continued, voice small. “Is this how things are going to be now?”

“How?”

She looked away. “Awkward, and weird.”

Javier stood there in silence for a few seconds.

“I hope not,” he said. And it was true.

Miki looked back at him and chuckled, probably amused at how miserable he sounded. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, because she looked very miserable herself. She patted the side of the bench next to her to get Javier to come sit closer.

“I’m sorry I’ve been acting weird,” she said as he did. “I just ― I’m just _feeling_ weird these days.” She looked in his eyes, honest. “I don’t want to lose you, Javier, and I… I don’t know how to put that into words.”

Javier smiled at her. “You just did.”

She laughed. “I’m being sincere. I’m very lucky that you decided to come here ― we all are. You’re kind, you’re funny, you’re full of light, and you’re grounding. You’ve changed everything, Javi.”

He kept looking at her, nodding lightly, feeling her slowly opening up and encouraging her to keep going.

“Things ― you know, things haven’t gone so well lately,” she continued, head down. Her voice was slightly trembling. “Before you arrived, they were just… They were just bad. And we’ve tried ― I’ve tried, Johnny tried, we all did ― to hold things together, but…”

She shook her head. Javier kept quiet, not wanting to ruin whatever confession she was about to make.

When she looked back at him, there was a small smile on her face. “Since you’ve been here ― I’m really starting to feel like things will work out. You give us hope, Javi. Thank you.”

She threw her upper body at him into a hug Javi had no choice but to receive. He squeezed back all the same, but mentally cursed that she didn’t elaborate a little more.

She sighed into the hug as he gently rubbed her back.

Her stomach growled. They drew back, chuckling.

“Have you been eating enough, lately?” he asked, amused but a little concerned still. “You’re always hungry.”

Miki shook her head, laughing. “I don’t know, maybe I don’t,” she shrugged.

Javier pursed his lips. “How about we skip practice today and head out for second breakfast.”

She gave him a playfully offended look. “We already missed practice yesterday.”

Javier got up, holding out his hand to help her get up too.

“Well,” he said, “we’ll just practice harder tomorrow.”

Miki laughed as she watched him pick up their things and throw them in a corner, barely hidden.

As they walked out, Javier clearly felt the insistent eyes of somebody behind them. Instead of glancing back however, he just chose to hold on to Miki a little tighter, his hand slipping from her shoulder to her waist, a little possessive.

He wasn’t sure why he did it.

 

But the next day, when he arrived at practice, Miki was nowhere in sight.

Instead, alone on the stage, playing with a rusty knife in his hands, stood Yuzuru.

“Where’s Miki?” Javier asked before he even dropped his bags.

Yuzuru looked at him. “Hi, Javier,” he smiled. “She is to the doctor.”

“What?”

Yuzuru’s tone was light, like it was no big deal. “She feel sick this morning ― she asking me to tell you.”

Javier squinted. This didn’t feel right.

“Is she okay?” he asked. “What was it?”

Yuzuru shrugged. “Bellyache.”

She _did_ eat way too much smoked meat last night ― Javier had watched it with bewilderment and mild apprehension.

“Okay,” Javier said, but he still intended to confirm with Misha or Alex right away. He turned around to go back outside. “Thanks for telling me.”

There was a beat of silence before he heard Yuzuru’s voice call for him.

“Wait!”

Javier glanced back. He saw Yuzuru shift on his other leg, his head tilting slightly to the side.

“You can still practice,” he said. “There’s show tonight. I won’t steal the practice time you need.”

Javier frowned. “Have it. I can’t practice without Miki anyway.”

“You can.” Yuzuru stepped forward. “You need just a target.”

Javier stared at him, face blank. Then, he understood.

“Oh,” he simply said. “And that would be you?”

Yuzuru shrugged but averted his eyes. “I already shoot at you. It’s only fair.” Then, just as Javier was thinking about softening, he looked straight back at him to declare: “And you _really_ need practice time. Believe me.”

Javier straightened.

“You wouldn’t know, you weren’t there at the show.”

Yuzuru dropped the knife in the box. “I see enough before. I know.”

He pushed the box towards Javier with his foot. Javier figured that the look he gave him at that moment must have been very close to the one he gave each one of the loading guys to wrap them around his finger. Javier wouldn’t fall for it ― but really could use every opportunity he had to try to figure Yuzuru out. This one was being handed on a silver platter; a bit too shiny not to be a trap, perhaps, but, at least, Javier convinced himself, he was aware of it.

“Why not,” he said, smiling back at Yuzuru, just as gracious.

He grabbed the box of knives as Yuzuru leisurely strolled to the spot where Miki usually stood. When Javier glanced back at him, as he dug in the box to find the longest, scariest looking knife, he saw him running his fingers over the pierced wood of the practice plank.

“Ready?” he asked to get his attention. Yuzuru turned to face him. “You have to stand still.”

“You have worst material. Everything old, rusty.”

Javier, despite himself, looked down at the pile of knives at his feet, then at the one he held. “Yeah, well,” he admitted, “we asked Johnny, but he hasn’t done anything about it yet. He’s busy.” Javier positioned himself to aim once again. “Ready? Stand still.”

Yuzuru made a face. “If he believe in your number ― he give you.”

Javier sighed, dropping his hand. “You know what, this was a stupid idea to begin with.” If Yuzuru was only there to criticize and mock, well, Javier would rather be off doing something else somewhere else. “I’m off.”

“No, no,” Yuzuru extended an arm at him as he shook his head. “I stay quiet now. Stand still.”

He brought his arms stiffly to his side, straight and still like a plank, as if to prove to Javier he could do it. Javier took back the knife and pointed it at Yuzuru’s small frame, closing an eye to see where to aim.

“Have you ever shot someone?” Yuzuru asked.

Javier adjusted his aim, shaking his head. “I never missed a shot,” he said, answer automatic, mechanically repeated over and over the years to anyone who asked him about it.

“I know that,” said Yuzuru. “Have you ever shot someone?”

Javier brought down the knife to look at him. There was as glimpse of amusement in his eyes that made Javier frown.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered.

“I don’t need,” Yuzuru retorted. “I’m not afraid.”

Javier clicked his tongue. “It’s not about being afraid ― it’s about reflexes.”

That seemed to insult Yuzuru. “I have better reflex―”

“ _Dios mío_ ,” Javier muttered, exasperated. “Do you want to do this, or not?”

Yuzuru crossed his arms as he leaned to rest his back on the wood. “I’m the one who wait.”

“Close your eyes.”

Exhaling, Yuzuru made a point of rolling his eyes before shutting them.

“Don’t miss,” he said, and that almost made Javier want to pin his head to the wall with an axe.

Inhaling, Javier pointed the knife at him. He took a second to observe him ― really look at him, without the fear of being caught peering. Yuzuru still had his arms crossed in front of him, the pale blue silk of his sheer sleeves lightly caught in a chip of the wooden plank he rested on, perfectly still. His eyes were closed, eyelashes barely fluttering, making the dark strands of hair that fell on them quiver softly. Javier’s eyes trailed down his legs, to notice he was still leaning on the left one.

He wondered what this was all truly about. Certainly not trust; Yuzuru was probably smart enough to know that after the gun incident, he would be the last person on earth Javier would ever grant his trust to. Maybe this was some sort of challenge―

“I fall asleep, here,” Yuzuru’s bored tone interrupted Javier’s thoughts, and the knife flew right away from his hand.

And ― Javier couldn’t tell if it was because his hand had flinched imperceptibly, incomprehensibly with the nervousness ― if it was because Yuzuru, at the last moment, against Javier’s warning, had opened his eyes ― or if it was because Javier, subconsciously, really had wanted to pin his head to the wall, but―

The knife landed a hair too close to Yuzuru’s ear.

Javier felt his breath catch in his throat. Yuzuru didn’t wince, or make any kind of expression to indicate it, but Javier knew.

Yuzuru slowly brought his fingers to his ear shell, the slightest of frowns forming on his face. When he drew back his hand to look at it, there was a small drop of crimson on his fingers.

And,  __like a sack of rocks, the whole weight of the realization fell on Javier's shoulders _._  He had _missed_.

Words caught at his lips, unable to escape, to say sorry, explain himself, or shout. But there wasn’t any pain on Yuzuru’s face ― just intrigued bewilderment, and faint amusement.

“See,” Yuzuru said, voice barely a light whisper in the silent space. He looked back at Javier, planting his gaze right on his as he brought his finger to his mouth, resting the drop of blood on his plush, smiling lips. “You do need practice more.”

 

Javier was left stressed and full of apprehension as he waited alone backstage for Miki to show up. Johnny had told him she would make it in time for their number, but the show had already started, and Miki was nowhere in sight.

He was restless and worried. His mind kept replaying the missed throw, Yuzuru’s blood tainted lip an image that refused to leave his mind, as if burned behind his eyelids. With it, Javier’s last sure grasp on something he could control in his life had crumpled like ashes in his hands. He wished he could have talked it through with Miki, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea and, also, she wasn’t even there.

Just as he made up his mind to go and find Johnny, to ask him if she was ever truly coming, he saw her, a bit out of breath, push open the fabric door of her secret short-cut into the Big Top. She ran to him and he grabbed her hands.

“Miki,” he exclaimed, relieved. “Are you okay?”

“I am” she said, glancing behind the curtain to see what was happening on stage. “Am I late? Is our number passed yet?”

“It isn’t, we’re fine” He glanced at her disheveled hair, at her shiny dress she probably put on in a hurry. Her face was a bit pale. “Are you sure you’re okay to perform? What did the doctor say?”

Johnny tapped Javier’s shoulder from behind. “Are you guys ready? You’re next.”

“We are,” Miki said before Javier could object.

Johnny nodded and went back on stage as soon as the applause ceased to introduce them. Javier spared one last worried look at Miki, but she pushed him from behind to walk pass the curtains.

 _The show must go on_ , Javier thought, saluting the crowd, a wide smile on his lips that he didn’t feel in the slightest.

 

As he was cleaning up at the end of the show with everybody, he felt two light hands grab his shoulders from behind, then a substantial weight land on his back, taking his breath away for second.

“Javi!” Evgenia exclaimed, laughing at the way he almost stumbled to the ground under her slight weight. “You will come with us to the lake, will you?”

“What lake?” he asked. “Please get off my back, you’re killing me.”

With a muttered ‘ _pff’_ , she got down. When Javier turned to look at her, she had both her hands on her hips.

“You don’t know? Boyang found a small lake near the camp in the forest. Everybody’s going for an afterparty ― once all the cleaning is done. You’ll come, right?”

Javier looked around, then down at his wet mop. “Uh, I have to see―”

“Miki will be there!” she interrupted him, pointing at his face. “Don’t be an old man, now.”

That made Javier frown. “I’m not an old man.”

“Then come!”

“Oh, god,” he sighed. “Maybe. What time are we leaving?”

Evgenia beamed. “In half an hour!” He watched her skip away, joyful. “Misha! Javi’s in too!”

Javier barely had time to finish his job and go back to his tent to change before he found himself squeezed between Misha and Shoma on a small carriage that bumpily lead them into the forest. Misha was holding a torch, which made Javier want to lean away from him, but the thought of getting any closer to Shoma was just as frightening, so he sat as still as possible, not daring to move. He had tried to greet the boy the way he saw Stéphane do it once, with a pat on the head, but right as he had approached his hand, a hiss made him notice the small and probably poisonous black viper that hid in his hair. Cold sweat running down his back, Javier swore to never try such a thing again.

“Uh,” he heard himself ask Misha at some point, voice a bit hoarse. “Do you know if, uh, Yuzuru will be there?”

Misha shook his head. “Nah, he wasn’t in the mood.” He raised an eyebrow at Javier. “Why do you ask?”

Javier nodded, dodging the question. “Yeah, I guess. Must not be his... thing.”

Misha shrugged. “It actually used to be, at one point, you know.” There was a bit of sadness in his tone. “But now it’s like ― he’s still there, but he isn’t really there, you know?”

He felt himself raise an eyebrow. “And where is he?”

Misha laughed as he made a vague hand movement in the air. “Somewhere else, someplace higher up. I don’t know.”

“I heard about his fall,” Javier said.

Misha squinted at him, confused.

“What are you talking about?” he said, sounding almost insulted. “Yuzuru never, ever fell.”

“Oh,” Javier blinked. “I thought―”

“It shows you’ve never seen him perform,” Misha went on, scoffing. “He’s absolute perfection. Never a single mistake ― out of this world, man.”

Javier hummed. He could tell Misha was being sincere, his pure affection and admiration for his friend leaking through the defensive speech he gave Javier.

“Sorry,” he said. “I must have misunderstood.”

“You really should go and look at him practice when you get the chance,” Misha insisted, pointing a finger at his chest. He had already been drinking for an hour, empty bottle of vodka rolling next to his feet. “You’ll understand.”

“Maybe,” Javier said, but he was still thinking about Eric, and his lie about Yuzuru.

The carriage came to a stop. Everybody got out too fast, bumping their already drunk bodies against each other, laughing, and sometimes tumbling to the ground. Javier saw Scott Moir get naked in the blink of an eye and throw himself into the freezing lake with a war cry. A few others followed, shouting about how cold it was and splashing the ones who stayed on the shore.

Javier decided to skip the midnight skinny dip, very reluctantly. He wanted to stay close to Misha ― giggly, talkative, tipsy Misha was the gold mine Javier really needed for the night. But he had already disappeared and Javier, a little panicked at having already lost him, accidentally bumped into Shoma.

The kid didn’t make a sound, but a very worrying rattlesnake’s rattle rang in Javier’s ear, and he pulled far away as fast as possible.

“I’m sorry,” he excused himself.

Shoma looked at him in silence, with the same straight face he always wore. Javier scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and left.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked Evgenia, who he found sitting on a huge log, all on her own, with no drink in her hands. “What’s the deal with Shoma?”

“What do you mean?”

Javier scraped his foot on the sand. Wasn’t it obvious? Would he really have to point it out? “You know,” he said, “his voice. Can he actually talk?”

Evgenia tilted her head. “Oh, you didn’t know?” Javier shook his head, and she kept going. “His tongue got cut off.”

Javier’s eyes went huge. “What?” he said, voice small.

Evgenia only nodded, squeezing her lips. Javier stared at the ground in shock.

She held on for one more second before busting out, laughing like crazy. “Oh! You believed me!” Her body bent in two, her laughter making her squeeze her belly with her arms. “Your face!”

Javier frowned, but his shoulders relaxed, and he let out a sigh. “Thank god,” he mumbled. It _could_ have been true.

“Don’t worry,” she wiped a tear away from her face, still giggling. “Shoma still has a tongue. Oh, that was so funny!”

“Then,” Javier said, “what is it?”

“What is what?”

“What’s his problem? Why doesn’t he talk?”

Evgenia’s lips formed an ‘o’ as she nodded. She shrugged a shoulder, searching for her words. “Well, you know, he’s kind of like Baekhyun.”

Javier squinted, a little lost. “Who’s Baekhyun?”

She gaped at him. “Baekhyun! My leopard! You _know_ him!”

Javier blinked, twice. “Right, of course,” he said. “Baekhyun, yes. Sorry.”

“He loves you so much and you don’t even remember his _name_.”

“I do,” Javier assured, “I do, I’m sorry. I love him too.”

Evgenia raised her eyes back at him, smile returning back on her face. Javier smiled in return.

“Then, how is he like Baekhyun?” he insisted gently, trying not to lose his patience.

“Who?”

“Shoma.”

“Oh.” Evgenia pushed back some of her hair behind her ear. “Well, remember how I told you Baekhyun was a bit shy with humans, but it was because he was scared of them? Shoma’s just like that. He got beaten up so much, he won’t talk anymore.”

Javier blinked.

That sentence didn’t end at all the way he had expected.

“Beaten up?” he repeated.

Evgenia shrugged. “Well, he’s been part of the circus since he was a child, you know.” Since Javier didn’t answer, Evgenia kept on going. “But you don’t have to fear him at all! It’s true that he is the sweetest. And I’m sure his voice will come back one day. He’s already so much better ― and he will keep on improving, just like Baekhyun!”

Javier was left speechless for a minute, and it was enough for Evgenia’s babbling to switch to another subject, and then another, and without him fully registering it, he was having a conversation about cat food.

When he spotted Miki in the distance, talking with Maia and a couple other ribbon dancers, he took the opportunity to leave Evgenia and run to her.

His mind was racing with what Misha and Evgenia had told him, but talking with Miki always helped him stay grounded. He needed that, until he could get back to his tent, alone, and write it all out, try to make sense of everything.

“Javier!” Miki greeted him, smile barely covering her tired eyes.

He held her in a hug, half-expecting her to feel frail and weak in his arms, but she was as solid as ever, shape strong and perhaps even bulkier than he would have thought.

“How are you doing?” he asked, pulling back when he heard Maia cough at their side.

They didn’t get the chance to talk much after the performance ― which went well, but still. Miki’s face was worn out, her skin pale, and she had none of that after-show glow she usually bore with the remains of the adrenaline. She looked like she should’ve headed to bed.

“I’m good,” she chuckled. “A bit tired, but at least my stomach isn’t trying to kill me anymore.”

Javier looked at the mix of bottles on the carriage. An idea popped to his head.

“Hey, want to try this remedy my mamá used to make? It’s to give back energy ― you mix gin and honey ―”

Miki laughed. “No, no, I can’t.” She made a face. “I can only drink this. Words from the doctor.”

She pulled up a bottle of a weird mixture, too slimy to be soup, too thick to be juice.

“That looks disgusting,” Maia remarked, doll-like face contorting in a disgusted grimace.

Javier glowered at it. “It’s not poison, isn’t it?”

Miki chuckled instead of answering. “It’s the only thing I can eat or drink for the next week.”

“What?” Javier frowned. “That seems way too harsh of a medicine for a bellyache.”

Maia raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you a doctor?”

Javier couldn’t help but admit he wasn’t. When he noticed Miki wince after taking a sip, though, and almost stumble on her way to the log she wanted to sit on, he took her by the arm and auto-proclaimed himself specialist enough.

“Okay, how about we head back, now?” he said, trying to make it sound fun. “I can hear my bed calling from here. I’m sure yours does too ― it’s been a long day.”

Miki nodded, taking another sip out from her bottle. “Let me just say bye to Tessa,” she mumbled, already heading off to the shore of the lake.

Javier was about to follow her when he heard Maia warn him.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

He turned around to face her, raising an eyebrow. Despite not having her brother’s height or built, she had a quiet aura around her that commanded attention.

“Do what?” Javier inquired.

She nodded at Miki’s back. “Mess with her. She might send conflicting signals, but her heart is not to take. That, I can assure.”

Javier felt like laughing. “Okay.” He turned around to get back to Miki. “That won’t be happening.”

“I’m not joking, Raya!” he heard her caution at his back.

He only waved at her. “Goodnight!”

 

Before practice the next day, Alex came to tell Javier that Johnny wanted to see him. Perplexed, never having been summoned directly and alone to Johnny’s tent before, Javier followed Alex. It strangely felt like being escorted.

When they entered Johnny’s tent, the man was seated at his desk, reading the newspaper. He put it down when he saw Javier, folding it carefully to the side. It was the _Country’s_.

“Ah, Javier, come,” he said, waving his hand for him to sit in the chair directly facing him.

He rested his chin in his hands, elbows planted on the table, worrying smile on his lips, as Javier sat with his back straight and shoulders tense in front of him. “My dear,” Johnny started, tilting his head. “How are you doing?”

Javier glanced at Alex, who had stayed in the corner, arms crossed.

“Uh,” he said, looking back at Johnny, smiling as genuinely as possible. “Pretty good, and you?”

Johnny shook his head. “Not in general, I mean,” he clarified. “With the show. How do you like it so far?”

Javier’s mouth opened and closed. He wasn’t sure what Johnny wanted him to say.

“Please, be honest,” Johnny insisted. “I want to know about your experience.”

Javier decided to go with honesty. “I’m doing fine,” he said, “but I’m a bit worried about Miki. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to let her perform in the shape she’s in, and I―”

“Let’s be clear, here,” Johnny interrupted him. “I absolutely agree with you. Miki’s only performing because she _insists_ on doing so.”

Javier frowned. “But if you convinced her―”

“Now I’d like to see _you_ try and change her mind about it.” Johnny shook his head. “You don’t know how stubborn she can be.”

Alex chuckled, and Javier pursed his lips.

“I want to hear about _you_ , Javier,” Johnny leaned on the back of his chair. “What’s _your_ experience?”

Javier felt like his smile was tight ― he glanced away and scratched his chin to cover it.

“There’s not much to say. I’m doing fine, everything’s fine.”

Johnny tilted his chin. “Sure about that?” His eyes were piercing through Javier, he felt it almost physically. “No comments, complaints about the way you’re treated?”

Javier had to force himself not to look down at the pile of newspapers next to Johnny. He nodded.

“All good.”

Alex and Johnny exchanged a glance.

“Well,” Johnny said, “that’s great, because we have a gift for you.”

Javier frowned as Alex walked to the corner of the tent to pick up a heavy box. Big enough to fit a body, Javier’s mind flashed.

Alex dropped the box to his feet. Johnny stood up to open it.

“ _Ta-daa_ ,” Johnny exclaimed, doing jazzy hands once the lid was lift up.

Javier’s eyebrows sprung up. Inside the box, neatly arranged, was a whole brand-new set of shiny knives.

“And that’s not all!” Johnny removed the display plank. Under it laid a set of axes, all of different shapes. “I thought it would be a very nice addition to your number. What do you think?”

Johnny’s grin at him was blinding and expecting. Javier had to clear to his throat in order to be able to answer.

“Wow, that’s ―” his voice was a little strangled. “That’s so great, Johnny.”

“You like it?”

“I do. It’s great,” Javier nodded. “Thank you so much.”

Johnny clapped, excited. “Well, I’m so glad. It’s to thank you for your first month with us, Javier, and to reward you for the nice number you’ve given us.”

He pushed the box towards Javier’s feet. Javier picked a knife and proceeded to examine it closely, as he knew Johnny expected him to.

“Alex will help you bring it to the backstage,” Johnny shooed them away. “Now,” he continued as he sat back down at his desk. “You’ll excuse me, but I have some more boring paperwork to do. I’ll see you tonight!”

Javier put the knife back in the box, and Alex closed the lid. He thanked Johnny one more time as they left, and finally was able to exhale when they got out of the tent.

“Wow,” Javier sighed, relieved beyond words. “That was ― damn. He made it so dramatic, I really thought I’d be in there getting scolded for something.”

Alex laughed. “Johnny’s not like that. But he _is_ dramatic.”

“We’ve been asking him for a set of knives for three weeks now,” Javier said. “He really made us wait.”

Alex shot him a sideway glance. “He probably would’ve made you wait even longer.” He adjusted the weight of the box in his arms as they kept walking. “But that’s how it is ― what Yuzuru asks, Yuzuru gets.”

“Ah,” Javier simply said.

 

It happened a few days later, like it was almost inevitable.

Miki had followed her strict diet unfailingly, but the color on her face never seemed to return. She would get tired more easily, needing to sit after just a few minutes of continuous exertion, and was more irritable too. Javier tried to be understanding ― nobody would be in a good mood if the only thing they could eat or drink for a week was that green, slimy prescription, but sometimes it was hard.

Like it was at this very moment ― backstage, only a few minutes before their performance. Miki was scrambling around, panicked and irritated ― she had lost her hair pin, and Javier wanted to rip his very own hair off his scalp.

“Miki,” he whined, for what felt like the thousandth time, “nobody will notice _or_ care about your hair!”

“I _can’t_ get on stage without it,” she angrily hissed at him. “It’s my lucky pin, Javi! Have you looked down under that bench?”

“I did ― for god’s sake, we don’t have time for―”

Miki apparently didn’t believe he had looked well enough, because she went down on all fours to look again. Javier groaned.

“Everything’s good here?” Johnny barged in. “You’re on stage in five.”

“We are―” Javier started just as Miki brought her hands to head, saying “We can’t―”, and Javier sighed dramatically.

“Miki’s worried about her hair―”

“Javier made my pin fall down and now he won’t help me find it―”

“I’ve never seen that pin in my entire life!”

“You _saw_ it fall down―”

“Hey, hey,” Johnny interrupted. “Nobody on earth has time to waste on such a stupid couple quarrel. Now, back up and get ready, because in five minutes―”

Johnny stopped talking when Miki raised herself back up, a bit too fast perhaps ― it made her stumble a little, looking disoriented.

“Wow, are you okay?” Javier walked to her and grabbed her arm to make her sit down.

Miki brought her shaky hands to the sides of her forehead. “My head is spinning,” she said.

Johnny kneeled down in front of her. “How do you feel?”

“Sick.” Miki shook her head. “Get away from me, I ― I don’t feel good.”

Johnny got back up with a frown, and Javier put a gentle hand on her thigh.

“Do you think you’re fine for the―”

He stopped when Miki’s hand flew to her mouth, gagging.

“Oh lord,” he heard Johnny say. “She’s vomiting. Ondrej! Bruno!” he shouted at the group of people hanging out on the sidelines. “Come!”

Miki was indeed throwing up, and Javier could do nothing but look at her, wide-eyed, as a worried little crowd formed around them.

“Excuse me,” said Ondrej as he slipped an arm under her knees, the other supporting her back, lifting her bridal-style, taking her away from Javier.

“Take her to Kikushi-san,” Johnny instructed. “Cue to Nathan’s music! Boy, you’re next!”

"Wait ―” Javier said, getting up on his feet, "I'll come with you ―"

“He won’t,” Johnny said, and Ondrej nodded.

Bruno pushed people away to give Ondrej and Miki a way through the small, panicked crowd. Javier nudged Bruno to the side, sprout of panic taking over him as he noticed the way her head was falling on her chest ― unconscious.

“Where are you taking her?” he said, a bit too loudly perhaps. “Who’s Kikushi?”

“Alex,” Johnny shouted before pushing the curtains to go back on stage “Take care of him!”

He felt Alex grab his arm from behind. Javier tried to struggle against him — he was losing sight of Miki, he almost couldn’t see Ondrej anymore ― they turned a corner and they were gone.

“Wait! Ondrej, wait!” he shouted, but Alex circled his arm around his shoulders, turning him away. “Where are they taking her?”

Javier almost strained his neck trying to look back.

“Stop, shh, man,” Alex said. He snapped his fingers in front of his face to try and get his attention. “Look at me, listen. Stop freaking out. She’ll be fine.”

Javier blinked, wide-eyed. “Where are they taking her?” he repeated.

“Nowhere for you to worry about. She’ll be fine, I swear.”

Alex’s words were like a broken record to his ears,  repeating the same soothing, stupid things.

Javier glanced around, breath short, hoping to meet some merciful eye that would stop dodging his questions and give him the damn answers he was asking for. But everybody was already looking away, going back to their stuff ― Javier heard, as if from very far away, the cheers of the crowd behind the curtains, and he let his shoulders drop.

“I’ll bring you back to your tent, okay? Get some rest for the night.”

From the tightness of Alex’s grip, Javier understood he had no choice but to follow.

 

“You’ll stay here, okay?” Alex looked straight at him, lowering himself to meet his eyes. “Promise?”

They were back in Javier’s tent, and Javier gritted his teeth, trying to smile. He knew Alex couldn’t stay here to watch him forever, as his number was coming up shortly ― Javier just had to pretend he was calmed and relaxed before he left, and think his plan through later.

“Promise,” he nodded, sighing and looking down as if he was tired. “I guess I’ll just go to bed.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Alex smiled. “I’ll tell Johnny ― don’t worry about the cleaning.”

Javier caught Alex’s pitiful gaze before he dropped it back to the ground.

“She’ll be fine, Javier. She’s okay, in good hands already.”

“Of course.”

Alex sighed one last time before giving him an awkward pat on the back. He stood up, already walking backwards towards the door of Javier’s tent.

“I have to go,” he said, pushing the fabric door away, “but don’t forget, Javier ― everything will be better in the morning.”

Javier nodded at him. His smile dropped as soon as the door closed.

He felt like punching a wall.

Instead, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on the sound of Alex’s feet walking away on the gravel. He could almost hear Brian’s voice at the back of his mind, clear words of advice that rang so true now: “ _emotional investment is the only real danger an agent can encounter on any undercover mission_.”

Well, Javier was already up to his ears in danger, but at least, he thought while loading it with bullets, he had a gun.

He scrambled through his things to put everything he needed for a night out in a bag, blew out his candles, and headed outside. The camp wasn’t that big, and he still had time. He would find Miki and make sure she was okay, even if that meant going through every single one of the damned tents in this circus.

But once in the darkness, before he could even take a step, a flicker of light caught his eye.

“They leave already,” someone said and Javier turned right away, hand flying to his bag, where he kept his gun.

It was Yuzuru, of course. He was holding a kerosene lamp.

“Where?” Javier asked, a bit harshly from the stress.

Yuzuru turned his head, pointing his chin towards the east. “To Kikuchi-san.”

“And who’s that?”

Yuzuru kept his mouth closed, expressionless. It made Javier sigh, annoyed.

“Of course,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for nothing, see you around.”

Just as he was about to turn and stubbornly walk to the horses, Yuzuru rushed a step forward to grab his sleeve. It made Javier stop and stare at his hand until he let go of it.

“I could tell to you,” Yuzuru said.

Javier raised an eyebrow. “But?”

“But,” Yuzuru exhaled, looking to the side, seeming genuinely conflicted. “But ― is a big secret. Can’t be let go so easy.”

Javier stared at him for a moment. He weighed the pros and cons ― he thought of Miki’s paleness, of the way tears formed in her eyes as she threw up in her hands, her hanging head ― and the decision was easy to make.

“What do you want,” he finally said, “in exchange for that big, big secret?”

A sly smile slowly formed on Yuzuru’s lips.

“Follow me,” he said as he turned away.  

And Javier, like a moth circling around a flame, had no choice but to listen and let his feet follow the guiding light.

 

He entered Yuzuru’s tent, heading in to complete darkness. When Yuzuru followed, the flame of the lamp he held made the interior shimmer with flickering gleams that danced around them, endlessly catching Javier’s eye.

Yuzuru gestured towards an armchair for him to sit on as he walked around, lighting up the room. It really felt like a room ― it was bigger than any of the tents Javier had been in and was packed with a considerable amounts of things, given they were always on the road.

He couldn’t help but observe with great curiosity the various objects the light of the candles brought to his eyes. On every piece of furniture rested soft and shiny fabric cloths of a quality Javier wouldn’t even dare to compare to his sheets and blankets, and on top of every surface laid countless candles, rocks, feathers, trinkets, and charms. Javier felt his fingers itch with the desire to examine everything ― it was all so strange, especially after the weeks of material deprivation he had went through, to see such abundance and luxury shimmer everywhere he looked.

He brought back his attention back to Yuzuru, who was still slowly lighting up different shaped candles on his desk, taking over the remnants of obscurity one little flame at the time. Javier let his bag slide off his shoulder and fall next to him.

“So,” he said. “What do you want?”

Yuzuru didn’t turn back to face him, but Javier heard him scoff, like it was obvious. “One of your lies, of course. Truth for truth ― only real way to exchange.”

Javier smiled. “Do I get to pick which one I choose to say?”

“No. Too easy.”

Well, this was probably going to take longer than planned. Javier sat down on the armchair Yuzuru had pointed at, close to the bed.

“And how will you know I’m not telling you a lie?”

Yuzuru glanced sideways at him. “I can tell.”

“Ah,” Javier rolled his eyes. “In my eyes, right.”

As Yuzuru turned back to carefully light up a piece of what looked like sage, Javier couldn’t help but look pointedly at the objects around him. He poked a strange-looking rock with the tip of his finger, pushing it a little to the side.

“Will you cast a curse on me if I do?” he asked.

That made Yuzuru stop to give him a long look. “Stones are never for attack,” he said. “Only healing and protection.”

“Right, because that’s a thing rocks do.”

“You thinking it make you look smart, Javier? Make fun of things you don’t understand?”

Javier cleared his throat. “No, it ― I don’t.” He decided to change the subject, as he felt his cheeks heating up under Yuzuru’s pointed gaze. “How will I know _you’re_ not lying?”

Yuzuru blinked at him, lazily, leaning back on the desk behind him. “I don’t lie. Not anymore.”

Javier scoffed, looking away. There was this way Yuzuru had of looking so sure ― it was like there was no breach in the stone, no way to try and break his veneer, and Javier felt like tired waves crashing endlessly against an unmoving cliff.

“You go first,” Yuzuru said, almost gently. “You pick a question.”

Javier looked back at him. “Any one?”

“Carefully. The right one.”

“And whatever it is, you’ll answer truthfully?”

That made Yuzuru cross his arms in front of himself. “I say I never lie.”

It wouldn’t be hard. Javier was in no shortage of things he wished to know.

“Tell me who’s Kikushi.”

Yuzuru tilted his head, making sure to look him in the eye as he answered. “A physician.”

Javier nodded to get him to elaborate. “And?”

“That’s it,” Yuzuru shrugged. “He just a doctor, for body and mind.” He must have seen Javier wasn’t satisfied, because he added: “A good one. Long-time in charge of the members of the circus.”

“Okay,” Javier said, “but why is Miki seeing him so frequently? What’s the sickness she has?”

Yuzuru smiled, sly. “That is two other questions.”

That annoyed Javier. “If you know, can’t you just tell me right away?”

“No. Is my turn.”

Javier sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “Right,” he crossed his arms. “Go off.”

It was at this exact moment, with Yuzuru’s gaze piercing through him, that Javier realized his mistake. With his resolve to find out about Miki, he had forgotten a real, significant detail: he _couldn’t_ give away any secret. He felt his heartbeat imperceptibly accelerate. He had to find a way out of this ― maybe just by lying, like always, because surely all this talk about ‘being able to tell’ was exaggerated ― Javier had always been a pretty good actor, and he knew Yuzuru must have been overstating his own confidence in order to intimidate him.

But Yuzuru’s gaze, against all odds, shifted to the side, away from him.

“What I want to know…” he started, words difficult, making Javier frown. “Who Laura is?”

That ― made Javier blink.

Yuzuru kept on going, probably taking his silence for reluctance to confess the answer.

“Is she, like, wife?” he said. “Or, like, lover? Mother of child―”

“No, no,” Javier shook his head, the idea of it making him grimace. “God, no. Laura’s my sister.”

Yuzuru maintained a straight face, closing his mouth. “Ah,” he said.

Javier knew he could’ve played the way Yuzuru did, being stingy with the answers, keeping as much information as possible to himself. But he chose not to, because he also knew you didn’t get someone to open up to you by being even colder than them. Also — and it was the very last thing Brian had told him before he left — the best lies were the ones that were for the most part built on truth.

“I haven’t seen her in years,” he said, “but I try and send letters, help her out however I can. Even if it’s not much. She has a kid.”

“I’m sure she would prefer if you come see her and child,” Yuzuru said. “Family is more important than letters.”

Javier forced a little laugh out, averting his gaze. “Yeah. Maybe soon.”

Yuzuru looked at him in silence for a while. He chose not to push it, and Javier felt a little grateful for it.

“Your turn.”

Exhaling, he started to think his next question through. He watched Yuzuru turn back to his desk and start to look for something in the organized clutter.

“What’s the sickness Miki has?” was the question he chose.

Yuzuru shrugged a shoulder, not even bothering to look back at him. “I don’t know,” he answered.

Javier squinted. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Yuzuru insisted, spark of annoyance in his voice. “Is why she go to Kikuchi-san. Nobody know. Everybody can guess ― yours as good as mine.”

“Is there a way to know for sure?”

Yuzuru stopped and seemed to consider it. “I don’t know,” he glanced sideways at him. “Ask Kikuchi-san.”

“I don’t know where he is. I don’t think I could ever meet him.”

“You could,” Yuzuru objected. “If you sick. Or injury.”

He sighed, sharp. “Fine. Let me think of something else.”

Yuzuru shook his head, frowning at him. “No, is my turn. You ask your question already.”

“You didn’t know the answer!”

“That was true. It was my truth.”

Javier clicked his tongue, irritated. “You’re cheating.”

Yuzuru shrugged, going back to his search. “Is the game.”

“Well, it’s unfair.”

Javier crossed his arms, discontent, but Yuzuru only looked amused as he kept tossing and turning different boxes ― until he apparently found what he looked for. With a victorious little smile, he turned back to Javier.

“You want to stop?” he asked, taunting.

His palm was closed around a dark little object Javier didn’t have the chance to identify.

He nodded his chin at it. “What’s that?”

Another scrunchy smile. “A gift.”

Javier, frowning, handed out his hand, but Yuzuru shook his head.

“For later,” he said, sliding it in the fold of his silk belt. “But you want to stop?”

There was a silent question mark at the end of his sentence, that made them stare at each other in silence for a moment, before Javier finally gave in.

“I don’t,” he said. “Ask away.”

Yuzuru smiled. “Why you can’t see your sister anymore?”

Javier felt his fists clench on their own.

“That’s none of your business,” he answered, sharp reflex.

Yuzuru raised an eyebrow, and Javier regretted showing he cared that much.

“Sorry,” he excused himself. “I just ― it’s complicated.”

He rubbed his face with his hand to quickly try and collect his thoughts, but he could feel Yuzuru’s scrutinizing glaze taking in every shift in his expression.

“I see,” he heard him say, smile clear in his voice. “Is because of lies.”

“Not lies,” objected Javier, irritated. He bit his lower lip before saying: “more like… mistakes.”

“She having a kid without husband?”

Javier gaped at him, insulted. “No,” he answered coldly. “Laura’s in a fine, respectable marriage.”

Yuzuru tilted his head. “So is you who make a mistake?”

“No ―” Javier stopped himself to exhale rapidly. That sounded like a lie, and it was one. He was losing so much time. He closed his eyes for a second. “You know what? Yeah. Okay? Next question.”

Yuzuru had brought his hand to lips, fingers probably hiding a smile as he listened to Javier fumble, and that proceeded to irritate him even more.

“Must be pretty big one, for you to be scared of it like this.”

The look he gave him was filled with laughter, but Javier didn’t feel like laughing at all.

“What happened to your leg?” he asked, rather harshly, maybe out of spite. “Must be pretty bad, for you not to perform anymore.”

The sight of Yuzuru’s face falling for a single second instantly made Javier regret his words.

“I ― no, sorry ,” he excused himself once again. “You don’t ― it’s not―”

“Is okay,” Yuzuru said.

Slowly, he shifted on his right leg to stand up straight. It brought Javier’s attention back to his body ― he was wearing those long, tight velvet pants he always wore, making his legs appear infinite. Looking at them like that, standing casually, made it impossible to guess which one was fake.

“Nobody ask that in very long,” he said.

“You don’t have to answer. I don’t have to know.” Javier shook his head. “I don’t care.”

“It’s okay,” Yuzuru repeated. He didn’t look bothered, but his voice was a little quieter than usual. “It’s stupid. I overwork it. It hurt a bit, but instead of stop, I continue practice and perform.” He closed his lips, a tight line. “Simple overwork, and now I not even knowing if I can ever do again.”

Javier nodded. He didn’t have to look into Yuzuru’s eyes to know it was no lie.

“Does it hurt?” He heard himself ask.

Yuzuru shrugged. “Not when like this.”

He walked over to Javier and sat on his bed next to the chair he was sitting in, almost right in front of him, their knees almost brushing, like it was nothing.

 

“When I do the loop, I needing lot of strength here”, he traced a line over the side of his thigh with his finger, “because of fold. Is the strength of fold that hurt ― so I stop the loop.”

Javier nodded, his eyes locked on the small, slender fingers running over the darkness of the velvet.

“But I try a new number ― with long silk falling from the sky. Silk is softer, easier.”

Something in his tone made Javier glance up ― he said it like it was a sad thing.

“So it doesn’t hurt anymore?”

Yuzuru bit his lip. “Less.”

“Well, that’s a good thing.”

Yuzuru bent himself in two to rub his leg from the ankle to the knee. “That part is solid, so never hurt. Is only the flesh that’s weak.” He knocked over his knee, twice. “You can touch,” he said.

“Uh,” Javier hesitated.

His hand hovered over the leg, desperately trying not to make the tremble of his fingers perceptible, but Yuzuru grabbed it, gentle yet firm, to put it over his knee.

All his brain could register was that Yuzuru’s pretty hand wasn’t soft at all, but rather rough and calloused. It spread Javier’s fingers over the fake leg, hard and solid.

“It is wood?” Javier asked.

Yuzuru shook his head. “No. Special material.” He bit his lip, trying to find the word. “How to say ― _arumi_?”

Javier raised his eyebrows. “I have no idea,” he said, and Yuzuru scoffed lightly.

He kept moving his hand over the material, admittedly fascinated, but careful not to accidentally hurt Yuzuru. He wondered where it ended ― and moved his hand slightly higher up his thigh.

“I listen to Kikuchi very closely now,” Yuzuru was saying, “and it don’t hurt anymore when walk. But still do when practice.”

Javier’s hand stopped when it felt the demarcation line ― fake and real, material and flesh. He ran his fingers over it, featherlike, side to side. A mindless caress.

“I wish it is the opposite. That I can’t walk, but I can practice.”

Javier looked at him. “Why?”

Yuzuru glanced away. “Can’t trust the ground.”

Javier spread his fingers over the velvet of the thigh, warm and soft, and let his hand rest there.

“Why?”

Yuzuru gave him a small smile. “So many questions. Is my turn.”

He shifted a little, not that big of a motion, but it made Javier’s hand slide a little more over the inner thigh. In an impossible display of self-control, he resisted touching any more of it, but let his fingers dig slightly in.

Yuzuru looked into his eyes. His were dark, without a single shade of brown in them.

“Why you are here?” he asked, voice barely a whisper by now. “Why is a young, beautiful man not happy, married, and a family in the city?” Javier swallowed hard. “What mistake you make so big that you leave everything to come here?”

There it was ― the dreaded question, the one he could do nothing but lie about ― but it didn’t feel as terrifying as he would have thought. His mind was clouded, Yuzuru was so close, his body felt so warm under his hand.

“I can’t tell you that,” Javier simply breathed.

Yuzuru’s lips curved into a smile. “Is okay,” he murmured. “I think I know.”

And this, out of everything, was the thing that cleared Javier’s mind. He leaned back, taking away his hand like it was stung, features hardening. This was all part of Yuzuru’s game, his plan to figure him out, and Javier was not about to be tricked.

“You don’t,” he said. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Yuzuru rested both his hands over his lap. If he felt disconcerted or embarrassed, his face showed none of it. It couldn’t be ― it didn’t matter. Javier stood up.

“I’m not what you think I am” he insisted, feeling the anger and indignation flooding into his blood, like trying to drown out the inexplicable humiliation.

He heard feet running in the gravel outside the tent. Both he and Yuzuru turned their heads towards the sound, both going silent to focus on it.They straightened when Alex pushed the fabric door in a hurry, looking disheveled.

“Oh,” Alex said when seeing them. “Thank god, you’ve got him.”

Javier frowned at Yuzuru, who didn’t look back at him.

Alex then pointed his finger at Javier. “You promised you would stay in your tent, you dumb fuck,” he said, squinting at him, "I knew you wouldn’t listen.” He looked back at Yuzuru. “Thanks for that, dude, Johnny would have killed me.”

Yuzuru didn’t answer. Alex looked back at Javier.

“Sorry, but you’re coming back with me, man. Like, now.”

“Is okay, Alex,” Yuzuru’s voice sounded slightly too quiet. “I handle.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, staring at the both of them, slightly confused. “Uh, you sure?”

Yuzuru nodded, unexpected smile scrunching his nose and making his eyes disappear. To that, Alex could only frown and then smile back.

“Right, okay. I’ll leave you two, I guess. I ― uh, I won’t be far if you need me.”

He was already walking away, slipping past the fabric door.

As soon as he was gone, Yuzuru’s smile faded away. Javier closed his eyes. The silence was heavy, and he tried to unclench his jaw to speak to him.

“Nice,” he said. “Good job, my time got pretty well wasted.”

“Javier―”

“Screw this,” he said, “screw you.” He grabbed his bag, ready to walk back to his tent before he could punch something.

“Wait,” Yuzuru stood up, and Javier turned to face him.

“No need to worry,” he spat, spreading his arms. “I’m just going to my tent. No more babysitting ― don’t send the damn cops after me.”

“Just wait,” Yuzuru said calmly. “I give you something.”

Javier shook his head. “I don’t want any of―”

But Yuzuru was already taking his hand in his, opening up his palm to drop a warm, round object in his hand. The gift. Javier looked at it with a mix of impatience and fascination.

“It’s a medal,” Yuzuru explained. “Press it against back every night, and help with weight on your heart."

Javier raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Yuzuru took back the medal. He slid his hand under Javier’s arm and pressed his closed fist right against the back of his ribcage. Javier tensed when he felt his hand open, lightly pushing the round, flat object against his back. He could feel the warmth of it radiating through his two layers of clothes, distracting him from the fact Yuzuru's body was standing so close to his chest.

“Help with lies too,” Yuzuru continued, looking up to him, very serious, “and with fear.”

He slipped it into the inner pocket of Javier’s shirt before Javier could object.

“Say thank you later,” he said, taking a few steps behind.

Javier finally felt like he could breathe. They looked at each other in silence for a moment.

“Goodnight, Javier.”

Javier shifted on his feet and left, without a thank you or a goodnight in return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey fellas! i'm so, so sorry for the long-ass wait. next chap wont take nearly as long to be posted, i swear!  
> i couldnt write the perfo scene, but if you're interested, it goes something like this  
> scream at me on twt / tmblr............ & pls pls tell me what you thought of this is part in the comments!
> 
> Next part: III. FROM DUSK, UNTIL DAWN


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